


Yuuri Enchanted

by the__magpie



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ella Enchanted Fusion, Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Anxiety Attacks, Eventual Happy Ending, JJ is a fairy (and an asshole), Long-Distance Friendship, M/M, Mutual Pining, Prince Victor Nikiforov, Slow Burn, Vicchan Dies, Yuuri has anxiety, Yuuri is an unreliable narrator, literally an ella enchanted AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-29
Updated: 2017-05-15
Packaged: 2018-10-11 23:14:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 57,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10476714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the__magpie/pseuds/the__magpie
Summary: At birth, Yuuri Katsuki was given the gift of obedience, although he quickly learns as he grows up that it is a curse. He has to obey any command given to him, even if it puts him or others in danger. Too afraid to face the terrifying outside world, Yuuri stays in his home town of Hasetsu, until a chance encounter with Prince Victor urges him to venture outside of his safe bubble. Determined to break his curse, Yuuri begins on an adventure involving fairies, ogres, true love, and courage he never knew he had.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all!
> 
> I've been wanting to write an Ella Enchanted AU for absolutely ages, and I finally have an excuse. So I hope this is as much fun for you as it is for me!
> 
> This is based on the book by Gail Carson Levine, not the movie, though I don't think you have to have read it to appreciate this fic. (Although if you haven't read the book, go read it!) Some parts of this fic align closely with the book, though some parts I'll be changing quite a bit.
> 
> I have this fic planned out meticulously so don't worry about me abandoning it partway through. However, I can't promise that I'll be able to update in a timely manner all the time because school is a thing, unfortunately.
> 
> Feel free to follow [my YOI tumblr](https://wecalleverythinglove.tumblr.com/)!

Yuuri was born crying. He entered the world red-faced and wailing but completely healthy, to the relief of his parents and his seven year old sister. The guests at the onsen were forgotten that day as the family crowded around the bed and cooed over the wriggling, screaming infant. Minako, who worked at the onsen and was practically family, squeezed Hiroko’s hand and hugged Mari tightly.

But one guest would not let himself be forgotten. JJ, a fairy staying at Yu-topia Katsuki for the night, was delighted when he found out that there was a newborn. Less than an hour after Yuuri’s birth, he followed the sounds of continuous screams and discovered the room that the family had gathered into.

“To thank you for you wonderful hospitality, I will grant your son the blessing of a fairy.” Before anyone could stop him, he pronounced, “Yuuri, I give you the gift of obedience.” He waved a hand lazily, looking pleased with himself. “Now stop crying.”

Yuuri stopped.

Too horrified to speak, Yuuri’s parents could only stare as their son gazed silently up at them with wide brown eyes. Then Minako started shouting. When JJ refused to take the gift back, she chased him out of the onsen and forbid him from ever returning.

Yuuri heard the story hundreds of times as he grew up. He could imagine it nearly perfectly – Minako’s wild eyes that only emerged when she was truly furious, his parents trying to be polite but exchanging worried looks, Mari glancing between the adults in confusion. Hiroko and Toshiya explained to Yuuri countless times why he could never refuse when someone gave him an order. Still, he spent the first few years of his life hardly noticing it. He didn’t mind the small, everyday commands his parents or Mari or Minako tossed around carelessly. Nobody outside his family knew about the gift, not even his best friend Yuuko, and Yuuri rarely left the onsen anyway. His parents kept him close to them at all times. He avoided meeting new people, especially the frequent travellers that passed through their seaside town of Hasetsu on the way north to the capital.

He was five years old the first time he realized how frightening the gift could be. For his birthday, his mother made his favorite pork cutlet bowls for dinner, to his delight. At that age, an entire bowl was far too much for his tiny stomach, but Hiroko placed one down in front of him anyway, saying, “Eat!”

Yuuri ate. The first bites were delicious – as they always were – but very quickly he began to get full. Hiroko asked if he liked it and he truthfully said, “Yes, of course.” He’d had more than enough by now, he thought, but he couldn’t stop. His hand kept bringing up bites of rice and egg and pork even though his stomach was groaning. Hiroko laughed and called him her hungry growing boy. Yuuri whimpered but kept eating.

Only when he began to cry did Hiroko realize what was happening. “Yuuri, stop!” she exclaimed. His chopsticks clattered onto the table and Yuuri began to sob as Hiroko gathered him into her arms, apologizing over and over.

His family was usually careful about giving commands, but sometimes they slipped up without thinking. Yuuri was young when he started viewing his gift as a curse.

He grew up mostly in the onsen, cleaning and cooking alongside his parents and sister and the other workers. Hasetsu was a small enough town that it wasn’t too dangerous for him to walk around by himself, but it was still intimidating. Even when his parents encouraged him to leave the onsen more as he got older, he preferred the safety of its familiar walls. He’d been lucky enough to avoid the worst of what his curse could bring him, but the things that he had experienced – careless demands by guests at the onsen, other kids in the town forcing him to give them his toys without understanding why he was obeying – were enough to frighten him into hiding. He found it much easier to avoid strangers altogether and stay where he knew he was safe.

One afternoon when he was eight years old, Hiroko dragged him out to the market with her. She held his hand as they walked through the semi-crowded street, and he enjoyed the comfort of it even if he knew it made him look like a child.

“Make way!” a voice shouted over the crowd. People parted to the edges of the street as a carriage rattled over the cobblestones. Yuuri had never seen a carriage so intricately decorated with such beautiful or lightly stepping horses.

Murmurs broke out among the crowd. “It’s the king,” Yuuri overheard. “The king and his son.”

Yuuri craned his neck, eagerness flowing through him. Royals frequently travelled through Hasetsu, but Yuuri had never seen any in person. As the carriage passed by the spot where he was standing on his toes, he caught a glimpse of a boy staring out the window with an impassive expression. Yuuri knew it had to be the prince, Victor – ten years old, with sharp, delicate features and silvery hair that fell just past his shoulders.

Then a hand attached to a body that Yuuri couldn’t see reached out and touched the prince’s shoulder, motioning for him to sit back. The hand pulled a curtain across the window of the carriage and the prince was lost from view.

A second later, something small and quick bumped into Yuuri’s knees from behind, almost knocking him over. He looked around in time to see a furry shape shoot past, barking ceaselessly. The puppy bounded after the carriage. Without stopping, the carriage’s door opened and a pair of hands reached out to pull the puppy inside.

“Mom!” Yuuri said breathlessly, tugging at Hiroko’s sleeve. “I want a dog just like that one!”

He had never wanted anything before in his life, not like he wanted this. On his next birthday, he was delighted when his parents handed him a poodle puppy all his own. Squeezing the furry, wriggling body close to him, Yuuri whispered, “Your name is Vicchan.” In honor of the prince.

Yuuri and Vicchan became best friends. The dog was the only one who could never tell Yuuri what to do. In fact, Yuuri delighted in being able to boss Vicchan around, teaching him commands such as _sit_ and _come_ and _speak_. It felt good to be the one giving the orders for once, especially since Vicchan seemed to love obeying them since they usually led to treats and hugs.

With Vicchan by his side, Yuuri found the courage to leave the onsen more often. He still stayed within Hasetsu, but venturing into the town itself was not as daunting as it had once seemed. He let himself wander alone near the beach as long as the dog was bounding along at his heels. Vicchan made everything better. Every night, Yuuri hugged him close and whispered, “I love you Vicchan,” into the poodle’s tight curls.

Yuuri began to think that as long as he had Vicchan, it didn’t matter that he was cursed.

 

* * *

 

Vicchan died on a rainy morning in late winter when Yuuri was sixteen years old. The dog had been ill for a while and the family knew that it was coming, but it was still a shock was Yuuri reached down to pet him after waking up to find Vicchan’s body cold. He barely had the strength to call out for his parents and Mari before he broke down into tears.

Because Vicchan was a member of the family, they buried him in the Katuski segment of land in the cemetery, marking his grave with a simple headstone that read “ _Vicchan: beloved pet and friend.”_

After the burial, the family hugged Yuuri one by one and left him to pay his last respects alone. Yuuri knelt in the freshly overturned mud, not caring that he was ruining the knees of his trousers, and stared at the headstone. His throat tightened as he read the words again. He squeezed his eyes shut and pressed the heels of his palms underneath them to hold back the tears. “Vicchan…” he whispered, and found that he couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

The voice was unfamiliar. Yuuri stood and spun around to face the stranger, only to realize that he recognized the person standing a few feet in front of him with his hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket.

“I didn’t mean to startle you,” the prince said, because it was unmistakably the prince. Surely nobody else in the kingdom had that silky, waist-length silver hair or those striking, pale blue eyes.

“Your highness,” Yuuri gasped, dropping into a bow, horrified at himself for forgetting for a few seconds.

“Please, call me Victor.”

Straightening up but still staring at the ground, Yuuri had no choice but to stammer out, “V-Victor.”

“Was it a family member?” the prince asked, gesturing to the grave marker. Yuuri flushed, suddenly embarrassed for his grief.

“It was just my dog,” he mumbled. He wondered if his eyes were red. They felt like they might be.

“I’m sorry. I would be devastated if I lost my dog. He’s my best friend.”

Yuuri looked up, meeting the prince’s eyes for the first time. “Vicchan was my best friend.”

The prince smiled, the warmth of it making his eyes seem less icy. “What kind of dog was he?”

“A poodle.”

“So is my Makkachin.”

 _I know_ , Yuuri almost said, before biting back the words.

“Perhaps someday you can meet him, if you like. When the wound of losing your own dog isn’t so fresh.”

“I would like that,” Yuuri murmured, unsure of how else to respond. He had no idea why the prince was here, or why he was talking to him. At eighteen years old, he had grown up considerably since Yuuri saw him through the window of the carriage passing through Hasetsu eight years ago. He was taller – certainly taller than Yuuri – and his hair was quite a bit longer, hanging loose around his shoulders. He was dressed in deceptively simple clothing – only a simple grey tunic under a brown canvas jacket – and if it weren’t for his unmistakable appearance he might have been able to pass off as a civilian. He didn’t seem to care about the rain that sprinkled lightly down on them.

“What’s your name?” the prince asked.

“Yuuri Katsuki,” Yuuri said quickly. He wondered if he should bow again, but decided against it.

“You live here in Hasetsu?”

“Yes, my family runs the onsen, Yu-topia Katsuki.”

The prince nodded as if unsurprised by this information. “My father is here for a dinner at the town center with one of the nobles who lives nearby and he forced me to come along.” The look on his face was decidedly displeased. “I managed to escape for the afternoon but I doubt it’ll be long before I’m found.”

Yuuri didn’t know how he was supposed to respond to this, so he said nothing.

“Until then, walk with me, Yuuri. Show me Hasetsu.”

Yuuri’s feet began to move of their own accord, but he didn’t think he would have refused even if he were able. It was the prince, after all.

They left the cemetery and made the short walk into the town itself. Shyly, Yuuri began pointing everything out to the prince. The noodle restaurant. The local bar. His family’s onsen. The shoe shop run by Yuuko’s parents. He noticed Yuuko and her friend Takeshi staring wide-eyed at him through the window of the shop but didn’t want to explain to them – didn’t know if he even _could_ explain – so he and the prince kept walking.

“Are you staying at the town center?” he asked when they reached the largest building in the middle of Hasetsu. The town center contained a huge chamber, used for community gatherings and dances (not that Yuuri had ever been to one), and several rooms upstairs reserved for the highest ranking guests. It would make sense for the king and his son to stay there.

“Yes – in fact, let’s get away from there,” the prince said, glancing around. “There will probably be guards nearby and I don’t want to be found just yet.”

They hurried away from the town center and kept walking along a less busy street closer to the beach. A few people were out in the drizzle and several of them cast confused looks at the two of them, no doubt wondering what Yuuri Katsuki was doing with a boy who looked remarkably like the prince.

“I have to admit something to you,” the prince said after a while. They had circled back around and were near the onsen again. “I knew who you were when I saw you in that cemetery.”

Yuuri jerked his head toward him, shocked.

“Do you remember last summer when my cousin Christophe passed through Hasetsu and stayed a night at your family’s onsen?”

“Of course,” Yuuri said. Royals such as that as guests were always memorable occasions.

“He told me about you. Or at least he told me about a boy whose family owned the onsen who had a poodle just like Makkachin. I had hoped to come find you while I was here and perhaps make the sting of leaving my own dog behind less sharp, and I’m disappointed to I find that I came a day too late.”

He was smiling, though Yuuri couldn’t imagine why. “I-I’m glad that I made a good impression on your cousin. And I’m sorry to disappoint you.”

“I’m the one who should be saying sorry, for you loss.”

Yuuri ducked his head. “Thank you.”

“Chris told me that you were quiet. And that you had a nice smile.”

Yuuri looked up, surprised. He could feel himself blushing. Too flustered to think properly, he blurted out, “I knew who you were too.” Immediately, he felt like an idiot.

To his relief, the prince laughed. It was a nice laugh, even if it ended sooner than Yuuri would have liked.

“I-I mean,” he stammered out, “I knew you were the prince. I would have recognized you anywhere. I saw you a long time ago, when you drove through Hasetsu with your father.” He bit his lip before anything else stupid could escape his mouth. It was all the truth, but there was more than that. He had spent the eight years between then and now listening for any scraps of information he could get about the prince. Perhaps he felt the connection because of his dog, or because they were near the same age, but whatever it was he felt an insatiably curious about him. He had heard that the prince grew up to be loud and outgoing, which seemed to contradict the laidback boy in front of him. He was supposed to be friendly and kind to everyone he met, which seemed accurate at least, and he was incredibly spontaneous and disobedient, to the chagrin of the king. Yuuri knew now that that was true.

“I suppose we were fated to meet, then, Yuuri Katsuki,” the prince was saying, and Yuuri couldn’t comprehend what he was saying. The prince couldn’t be saying something like _that_ to _him_. At a loss for words, he managed to smile, causing the prince’s face to break into a wide, heart-shaped grin. “Aha, Chris was right! You do have a nice smile!”

Self-conscious, Yuuri covered his mouth and ducked his head, feeling himself flush to the tips of his ears.

“I’m sorry to embarrass you. Hasetsu is lovely, it really is. You know, as soon as I arrived and I heard the sound of the gulls, I was reminded of the capital. I could feel right at home here.”

“I love the sound of the gulls,” Yuuri admitted.

“Have you ever been to the capital city?”

“No, I’ve never left Hasetsu.”

The prince _hmm_ ed and tapped his upper lip with his index finger. “Someday you’ll have to visit me there. It has a different kind of beauty from Hasetsu. It’s much bigger, but I’ve managed to find most of the secret spots to hide away. I think the people in the city have gotten used to the sight of me and Makkachin being chased through the streets by palace guards trying to drag me back to my responsibilities.”

Yuuri couldn’t help but laugh at the image, and the prince looked pleased.

“You’ll have to come in the summertime,” he went on. “That’s when it’s the most beautiful, I think. The late summer, just before the leaves start to change. The whole city seems to turn golden, Yuuri, it’s breathtaking. The sunlight is just the right color to make the brown stones glow. People are just started to prepare for the colder months and nearly everyone is out in the streets while it’s still warm. You must see it.”

“I would love to,” Yuuri breathed, captivated by the idea.

“Your highness! Prince Victor!”

The two of them turned to see two identically dressed attendants rushing toward them. The prince sighed heavily. “Ah, here they are.”

“Your father the king is looking for you, your highness. He wants you back at the town center immediately.”

“Duty calls.” Turning to Yuuri, the prince reached out a hand to shake. “Thank you for showing me around Hasetsu. It was a pleasure to meet you, Yuuri.”

Yuuri shook the prince’s hand. His own hand felt cold in the prince’s warm one. “It was an honor, your – um – V-Victor.” He glanced at the attendants nervously, worried that they would chastise him for using the prince’s proper name, but they seemed to hardly notice him. With one last smile, the prince turned away to follow them back toward the town center.

Dazedly, Yuuri made his way back to the onsen. He had barely opened the door when Mari’s hands reached out and seized him by the shoulders, dragging him inside.

“Yuuri!” she hissed, shutting the door behind him and gripping his shoulders tightly. “Was that the prince you were walking with?”

“Wha . . . ? Oh, yes, it was.”

“ _What?_ ” Mari squealed. Letting go of him, she rushed to the window, pressing her face against it as if hoping to get a glimpse of him even though he was long out of sight. “What’s the prince doing here? Why were you talking to him?”

Minako, who had been lingering nearby and pretending not to eavesdrop, said, “I heard that the king is staying the night at the town center.”

“He is,” Yuuri said. “They are. And I wasn’t talking to the prince, he was talking to me. He found me at the cemetery and wanted me to show him around Hasetsu.”

Minako was frowning. “What did you say to him? You didn’t tell him about…?”

“What? Of course not.” Long ago, Minako had commanded him never to tell anyone about his curse. It was too dangerous for anyone to know, especially a royal. A royal might want to take Yuuri away and use him. “I just told him about Hasetsu, I guess.”

“You don’t think he suspected at all?” Minako’s eyes narrowed.

“No, I don’t.” In fact, while Yuuri was with the prince, he had nearly forgotten about the curse. He couldn’t remember the last time that he had spent time with someone other than a family member who hadn’t tossed out thoughtless commands with nearly every sentence. The prince demanded much less than most people, which seemed ironic. Yuuri would expect a prince to spend all his time bossing people around, since they had to obey everything he said. But Victor – the prince, he quickly reminded himself, refusing to grow too familiar even in his own head – had hardly told him to do anything. And certainly not anything that he didn’t want to do. He had even apologized to Yuuri, multiple times. It was unfathomable.

Mari kept pestering him with questions that he didn’t know how to answer and Minako still looked worried despite Yuuri’s repeated assurances that the prince had no way of knowing. At dinner, Mari tried to get him to recount every word that they had exchanged until Yuuri tiredly told her to leave it alone. He didn’t mention what the prince had said about knowing who he was, though he wasn’t sure why he kept it to himself.

It wasn’t until later that night, when he went upstairs to his room and saw the empty space on the carpet beside his bed, that he remembered about Vicchan. Miserable all over again and ashamed with himself for briefly forgetting, he sat on the edge of his bed and felt a hollowness opening up in his chest. He closed his eyes when tears began to burn the corners.

A knock on the front door rang through the house. Knowing that everyone else was busy with chores and eager to get out of the silent emptiness of his room, Yuuri called, “I’ll get it!” As he pounded down the stairs, he wondered who could be knocking at this hour. All of the onsen’s guests should be settled in their rooms and travellers usually didn’t arrive this late.

When he slid the door open, there was nobody there. Yuuri poked his head out and looked up and down the empty street. He was about to step outside when he noticed something lying on the step outside the door: a single white chrysanthemum attached to slip of paper, slowing drooping in the rain. His name was written on the paper in a thin, looping script.

He bent down to pick it up, turning the paper over to find a note written in the same handwriting. Heart pounding, he read it silently.

 

_I noticed that you didn’t have any flowers on Vicchan’s grave. I’m sending this for that purpose because I know it can be difficult to get flowers at this time of year and I want you to be able to mourn your loss properly._

_Thank you again for showing me your home. I enjoyed it immensely. I hope that we can meet again someday._

_\- Victor_

 

“Who is it?” Hiroko called from the next room. Yuuri couldn’t speak. “Yuuri?”

He cleared his throat. “It’s nobody.” Rereading the note to make sure he wasn’t imagining it, he felt tears sting his eyes again. He had no idea how Victor had gotten a chrysanthemum in the winter. It couldn’t have been easy, which somehow made it even more special. He pressed the flower and the slip of paper over his heart and let the tears slide silently down his cheeks.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me: maybe you should work on that ten page paper that's due tonight  
> (evil kermit meme) me to me: write yuri on ice fanfiction instead  
> No regrets.
> 
> This chapter wasn't supposed to be this long, I swear. *sweats nervously* Who even knows how long this fic is gonna end up being.
> 
> Also, there's a part in this chapter involving an anxiety attack. If you'd rather skip that, I've put the first words of the paragraphs at the beginning and ending of that part in italics.

The king and the prince left Hasetsu early the next morning, before Yuuri had the chance to thank him properly for the flower. He wasn’t sure what he would have said anyway. A simple thanks didn’t seem enough to express his gratitude.

That morning, he walked to the cemetery and placed the chrysanthemum beside Vicchan’s headstone. The petals stood out pearly white against the black soil. Yuuri thought that Vicchan would have liked it.

Life at the onsen went back to normal, or as much as it could without the familiar presence of Vicchan bouncing along at Yuuri’s heels. Yuuri missed him like an ache that refused to go away. For the first few mornings after, he automatically reached down from his bed after waking up, and the cold air that his fingers touched instead of soft fur drove the ache deeper.

Something else had changed too – Yuuri couldn’t stop thinking about what the prince said about the capital city. Before this, he had no desire to ever leave Hasetsu. Here, he was surrounded by people he knew and trusted and he rarely had to worry about the horrible things he could be forced to do because of his curse. Here, it was safe and easy.

But for the first time in his life, Yuuri didn’t want safe and easy.

He wanted to see the capital city in late summer, exactly as the prince described it. Beyond that, he wanted to see more of the kingdom that he felt that he knew so little about. He had grown up listening to stories from travellers passing through the onsen, but never before this had he felt the stirring desire to venture outside of his small town and see these places for himself.

But every time his imagination started to run away with him, he remembered the curse and it came crashing down. There was no way he could hope to travel the kingdom cursed with obedience. It was simply too dangerous. Anyone could force him to give up his money and possessions, or worse, force him to hurt someone else. The possibilities were endless, mounting on top of each other, reason after reason why he couldn’t leave Hasetsu, until his dreams were buried under their impossible weight.

That is, until they pushed back up again, determined. No matter how hard he tried, Yuuri couldn’t let it go. He started eavesdropping more intently to the conversations of guests at the onsen while he wiped tables or served pork cutlet bowls, hoping to get a better idea of what the world out there was like. His desire to see it with his own eyes grew stronger and stronger with each passing day.

For the first few weeks, he kept it to himself to avoid upsetting his family. He didn’t know how they would react but was so afraid it would be negative that he avoided it altogether. Finally, though, one afternoon while doing laundry with Minako, he said as casually as possible, “The capital city is only a day’s carriage ride north of here, isn’t it?”

“That’s right,” she said. “Straight up the coast. Why? Got a sudden itch to see it?”

Yuuri shrugged. “Maybe.”

The smile dropped off Minako’s face. “Wait, you’re serious?”

“I’ve been in Hasetsu all my life. Maybe it’s time I saw more of the world.”

Minako lowered the pillowcase she had been folding. “Where did this come from?”

Yuuri shrugged again, not meeting her eyes, busying his hands with smoothing out the creases in one of Toshiya’s shirts.

“Is this because of the prince?”

Yuuri flushed. “It’s not!” Minako and Mari had not stopped talking about his brief meeting with the prince, even though weeks had passed. “I just . . . I think it might be time.”

Minako’s eyebrows were pinched together. “Yuuri, you know how dangerous that is for you, right?”

“I know,” Yuuri muttered. “It was a stupid idea.”

“I’m not saying that you can’t do it. But you would have to be careful. _Very_ careful.”

Yuuri sighed and set down the shirt. “I don’t want this curse to keep holding me back from everything.”

“I know you feel that way, but there are some things you just can’t do.”

“Yeah.” Yuuri stared down at his hands for a few seconds. Then his eyes widened and he looked up abruptly. “Hang on, isn’t the Katsuki family supposed to have a fairy guardian?” Hiroko had told him a story to about it when he was younger. It had seemed a little silly and far-fetched then, but Yuuri wasn’t in a position to be throwing away long shots. “You don’t know who it is, do you? Maybe Mom and Dad know. I could find the fairy! They could lift the curse!”

“That’s not how it works, kid,” Minako said gently.

“Why not?”

“It’s just not. Only the fairy who gave the gift is allowed to take it back.”

“What? That’s stupid.”

“Maybe, but that’s fairy law.”

Yuuri snorted. “What do you know about fairy law?”

“A lot, actually.” Minako returned to folding pillowcases.

“Why would you—”

“Because I’m the fairy guardian,” she said without looking up from the pillowcase she was folding, which was becoming smaller and smaller.

Yuuri could only stare at her with his mouth open. When he said nothing for a long time, she looked up with her eyebrows raised.

“You’re—” Yuuri choked out. “What?”

“I’m your family’s fairy guardian,” she said calmly.

“But . . .” As he tried to get his mind around it, a few things clicked into place – how Minako didn’t seem to have aged a day since his childhood, how she could drink incredible amounts of alcohol without passing out. But _Minako_ , a _fairy_? He blinked rapidly, closing his mouth.

“I’ve been with your family for a few generations,” she was saying. “Before that, it was my mother. Your family used to be a pretty big deal around here, you know. Even though you’re humble onsen owners these days, we’ve stuck with you all these years.”

Yuuri finally found his voice. “Do my parents know?”

Minako nodded.

“Mari?”

“I told her when she turned eighteen.”

“You weren’t going to tell me until then too?”

“I always meant to tell you sooner than eighteen. It’s different for you. Mari doesn’t have a curse on her.”

Yuuri just shook his head. “Prove it,” he said.

Without a word, she looked down, and Yuuri jumped back when he saw that the pillowcase in front of her was floating in the air and folding itself. It plopped down on the pile of folded pillowcases and the next one picked itself up and began to fold as well.

“That’s not a trick?” Yuuri said shakily. “That’s real magic?”

“About as real as I’ve got, actually.” Minako frowned. “I’ve got all the household chore spells down pretty well but beyond that I’m no good.”

Yuuri felt his heart sink. “So you can’t lift my curse.”

She met his eyes and shook her head regretfully. “Even if I could, I wouldn’t be allowed. Like it said, it’s fairy law. Only the fairy who casts the curse can break it.”

“You couldn’t . . . bend the rules a bit?” Yuuri said tentatively.

“I can’t. Not because I don’t want to, Yuuri, I promise. But there are so many things that could go wrong with big magic like that. I could hurt you or cause serious damage.”

“So then I need to find JJ.” The words came out without thinking, and only after saying them did Yuuri realize they were true. “I need to find JJ and tell him to break the curse.”

“Well,” Minako said slowly. “That would be your best bet. But it won’t be easy to find him.”

“You don’t have some sort of magical fairy communication?”

“No.” She smiled. “I don’t.”

“So I’ll leave.” Yuuri’s heart started to race at the prospect of it. “It’ll travel the kingdom until I track him down and ask him to take the curse away.”

Minako rested her hands on her hips. “You’re gonna need a better plan than that. JJ won’t be found unless he wants to be found – you could be wandering for years. The world out there is dangerous for you, Yuuri, and you’ve got to start smaller.”

“What do you mean?”

She shrugged. “It’s up to you.”

Yuuri leaned against the laundry table, thinking. He _had_ to find JJ and break the curse – he couldn’t let it hold him back from everything he hadn’t realized he wanted until recently. “I’ll figure something out,” he said.

“You know, I’m surprised at you,” Minako said thoughtfully. “I thought after Vicchan died you would coop yourself back up in the onsen like you did before he came along.”

Yuuri smiled a little. “I thought so too. But I feel like Vicchan wouldn’t want that.”

She pressed a hand over her mouth, barely stifling a snort. “You know he was a dog, right?”

He rolled his eyes. “Oh, be quiet.”

“You be quiet,” she shot back teasingly, and he glared at her as his tongue pasted itself to the roof of his mouth until she realized what she’d done.

 

* * *

 

Yuuri spent the next weeks figuring out how he was going to get out of Hasetsu. _Start smaller_ , Minako had said, so he did, rifling through books at the local library and examining postings on the board at the town center. There were a few advertisements to join trading groups that passed through Hasetsu, but Yuuri felt that there were too many risks with that. A few times, he almost second guessed himself and backed out, before remembering the prince’s description of the capital at the end of summer and jumping back in with renewed energy.

In the pages of a book he had pulled at random from the library, he came across a mention of a place called Celestino’s School for Boys. Yuuri sat up straight in his chair. A school! That could be perfect – it would give Yuuri a reason to get out of Hasetsu and see more of the kingdom. He would learn how to function in places other than this town and he could interact with boys his age, which he rarely did here. He’d never gone to the tiny school in Hasetsu, instead being taught by his parents. Perhaps somebody at the school would even know something about how to find a fairy.

That same day, he sent a letter to the school asking to apply. Then he finally talked to his parents about it, having kept his plans to himself until now.

Hiroko and Toshiya exchanged worried glances as he spoke. When he’d finished, Hiroko stepped forward to take his hands. “You know how dangerous this is for you, right, Yuuri?”

He took a deep breath. “I know. And I’m sorry to leave so much work to do at the onsen. But I want to see the world, however much I can with this curse.”

“Then we’re very proud of you,” Toshiya said. “Don’t worry about the onsen – we can hire extra help while you’re gone. We want you to do whatever you want to do.”

“Thank you,” Yuuri breathed.

The next months were spent preparing. After he applied, it was a tense few weeks before he received a letter back telling him that he had been accepted to the school. Hiroko made pork cutlet bowls that night in celebration. Yuuri would leave in the fall, giving him plenty of time to pack and say goodbye to everyone.

“I never thought you would leave Hasetsu,” Yuuko said one summer afternoon. They sat on the beach, leaning back with their elbows in the sand, watching Takeshi skip stones across the water.

“Neither did I,” Yuuri admitted.

“You never seemed like the travelling type.” Yuuko didn’t know about his curse so she had no way of knowing the real reason. “I mean, if you’re happy, I’m happy. But I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too,” Yuuri murmured.

He would miss all of Hasetsu. Before this, he had never noticed how beautiful it was, with its neat rows of houses lining evenly stoned streets, with the gulls that filled the air with their cries in the mornings, with the people whose faces were as familiar as his own. Some days, the idea of leaving that familiarity filled him with a terror as deep as his bones that set his hands shaking. But his determination not to let his fear stop him won out and as the summer drew to a close he made arrangements to travel to the school.

He was happy to discover that his route would take him north through the capital city at exactly the time of year that Victor (he started calling him Victor in his head without realizing it and liked how it sounded) had described. He would have a few hours to spend in the city before he got on another public coach going farther inland to the school. Although he knew it was impossible for him to see Victor himself, it would be nice to know they were in the same city.

The morning that he left, Yuuri woke up early and walked to the cemetery. He brought a handful of lilies to replace the wilted peonies he had left at his last visit. In front of Vicchan’s headstone, he knelt down and closed his eyes for a few seconds.

“I won’t be back for a long time,” he murmured. He liked talking to Vicchan’s grave; it let him pretend that his friend was here again, if only for a short time. “I’m sorry that I can’t bring flowers anymore, but Mari said she could do it once in a while.”

The sun was peeking through the trees and Yuuri knew he had to hurry if he wanted to leave in time. He placed a hand on the cold stone for a few seconds.

“I’ll be alright,” he whispered, not sure whether he was speaking to Vicchan or himself. Then he stood and jogged back into town.

He dragged his trunk from the onsen to the public coach waiting at the center of town, his family and friends trailing behind. After giving the trunk to the coach driver and paying his fare, he turned around to say goodbye.

They all descended on him at once. Yuuri found himself wrapped in a tangle of arms and tears and pleas of “Don’t forget about us!”

“I won’t,” he promised. He couldn’t have even if it wasn’t given as an order.

Then they backed off to hug him one by one. Yuuko squeezed him tightly and Takeshi ruffled his hair. Minako pulled a smile onto her face when she stepped away from their hug, even though Yuuri could tell it was a struggle. Mari murmured, “Good luck out there, little brother,” into his shoulder. Hiroko and Toshiya didn’t say anything when they wrapped him into their arms, but the warmth of their smiles said enough.

“Well, I’m off,” he said with a deep breath, stepping up to the coach. He waved one last time and ducked into the dark interior.

Only two others sat inside the coach already: an elderly woman who stared out the far window and didn’t meet his eyes, and a man from Hasetsu who exchanged smiles with Yuuri as he sat down. They would be together in the small space for the next day on the journey north to the capital and Yuuri was relieved that neither of them seemed inclined to start a conversation.

The coach lurched forward and he waved through the window to his family and friends as they grew smaller in the distance. His chest pinched, as if a part of him had been left behind with them and was tugging desperately at him to come back. For a while, he stared into his lap as tears that he refused to cry stung his eyes.

He had worried that he would grow bored on the journey, but he discovered that the view out the window was more than enough to keep him occupied. The road ran closely along the shore and though Yuuri had grown up beside the sea, he had never seen beyond the small stretch of coast that Hasetsu covered. Of course he had always known, in a disconnected sort of way, that the ocean was bigger than the tiny parts of it that he saw every day. But he had never realized how _much_ bigger. He spent most of the day watching the coastline rumble past through the window of the coach, as sandy beaches gave way to rocky cliffs which gave way to scrubby trees, and back again. By the time darkness fell, he was already overwhelmed by how much world he hadn’t seen.

He was lulled to sleep by the rhythmic sounds of horses’ hooves against the dirt road, the creak of the coach’s wheels, and the snores of the older woman sitting across from him.

Hours later, he jolted awake when the coach’s wheel lurched into a pothole. For a few heart-pounding seconds, he forgot where he was. He had never woken up anywhere but his bed at the onsen. Quelling his rising panic, he forced a few deep breaths, reminding himself where he was and what he was doing, looking out the window to distract himself. His mouth fell open.

He could see a city in the distance, so huge and grand it could only be the capital. The sun was still yawning over the horizon, casting the sky in shades of pale yellow and grey, and shining off the domes that rose above the city. Yuuri couldn’t breathe for a few seconds. He had never imagined something could be so magnificent. The palace itself perched like a crown over the low brown buildings surrounding it. Yuuri thought it was a fitting home for Victor. Somebody like him deserved to live in a place as beautiful as that.

As the coach approached the city, Yuuri pressed his face to the glass and drank in every detail. The sun rose higher and he saw that Victor was right – it made the brown stones glow a soft golden color. He could see now how truly immense the city was; Hasetsu could fit inside its walls twenty times over. In retrospect, he cringed at the pride he’d felt when showing Victor his town. How tiny and insignificant it must have seemed to him!

The coach slowed when it reached the city gates and Yuuri heard the driver exchange words with the guards. They were waved through and the coach bumped over cobblestones as it passed through the gates. Yuuri craned his neck around to look up at the metal portcullis overhead with its huge, rusted teeth. Then, before he knew it, they were among the city crowd.

For an early morning, it seemed unusually busy. Why were so many people awake at this hour? Yuuri remembered taking Vicchan on early walks in Hasetsu when hardly anyone in the town was awake. But here, people were out in the streets as if it were midday. Horses, wagons, carriages, and people on foot fought for room on the narrow streets. The coach’s progress was slow. When it finally stopped and the driver called “Disembark!” Yuuri wondered how he was going to survive the rest of the day here.

The three passengers climbed from the coach, blinking in the sudden brightness of the morning sunlight. The driver handed Yuuri his trunk. Then, before Yuuri knew it, he had driven away and Yuuri was alone in the middle of a city he knew nothing about.

 _Panic_ began to rise up before he could stop himself. Somebody jostled his shoulder and growled, “Get out of my way,” and Yuuri scurried to the side of the street and pressed himself against the wall of the building there. Pulling air in and pushing it out became a feat as his throat tightened and his hands began to shake. _Stop it_ , he commanded himself, wishing he had to obey the things he told himself. He squeezed his eyes shut and gripped his trunk until his fingers turned numb.

It felt like years before he could breathe normally again. When he finally opened his eyes, the street seemed marginally less packed and the voices slightly less aggressive. _I can do this_ , he assured himself. Perhaps if he kept telling himself that, it would come true.

He stood at the top of a long and crowded street, packed with stalls and early morning shoppers. Many of the stalls were stacked with produce or baked goods, but some boasted trinkets and knick-knacks. He was struck with the sudden idea of buying souvenirs for his family members, even though he wouldn’t see them for months. He could even buy something for himself – he had never bought himself a gift before. Besides, he was going to have to buy a meal eventually. He had already eaten the food Hiroko had packed for him for the journey in the coach.

With a deep breath, he stepped forward to join the crowd on the street, dragging his trunk behind him. Smells immediately washed over him – freshly baked bread, overripe fruit, smoke, the unmistakable scent of too many humans packed into a small space. Voices filled his ears, with vendors shouting out to advertise their goods, shoppers haggling prices, and friends chatting loudly with each other. Yuuri was relieved that his curse didn’t extend to commands given to a crowd at large. He was safe from vendors who shouted, “Buy your apples here!” unless they started shouting, “Hey, you! Kid with the glasses and the giant trunk! Buy my apples!” Yuuri avoided catching anyone’s eye. He only had so much money in his pocket.

It was impossible to stay out of everyone’s way, but Yuuri did his best to weave through the crowd without bumping into too many people. For now, he couldn’t even think about stopping to buy anything; he concentrated on getting through the street and not letting panic take over again. He tried to ignore the way his chest was tightening, making it difficult to breathe. It was nearly impossible to think with all the commotion around him. Keeping his head down, he pushed his way forward.

It was too much. He couldn’t breathe. All he could think was that he had to get out of here, now. Stumbling slightly and mumbling apologizes, he forced his way through to the end of the street. But there was no end to the crowd. Blindly, he ran through the streets, the wheels on his trunk bumping over the cobblestones. He had no idea where he was going but all he could think was _out, away._ Sights and sounds blurred together. Sweat itched under his clothes but his fingers were cold.

Then the city wall rose up in front of him, cutting him off. He turned left and almost sobbed at what he saw. The stones of the streets and buildings around him gave way to a small grove of trees – barely anything, but enough to provide an escape, free from other people. He stumbled toward the trees. As soon as his hand touched one of the thin, papery trunks, he could feel himself relaxing. His shoulders slumped and his breathing steadied. He leaned against the trunk, letting it take his weight, and closed his eyes.

He wanted to cry. If he couldn’t handle a simple city street, how could he expect to handle the rest of the world? It was a mistake to come here; he knew that now. He should find the next coach back to Hasetsu and stay there where he belonged.

 _Behind_ him, a dog was barking. It grew louder and Yuuri opened his eyes in time to see a fully-grown poodle leap into the air toward him. Without time to defend himself, he was knocked onto his back, with the poodle standing on his chest and licking his face.

“Vicchan?” he gasped without thinking. No, impossible. Besides, this dog was too big and too old, with patches of grey around its muzzle. If it wasn’t Vicchan, could it be—?

“Makkachin, no!” a voice called. “Sorry about that!”

Yuuri looked past the dog to see a figure hurrying toward him. He almost didn’t recognize him - the prince had cut off his waist-length silver hair. At his call, the poodle leapt off Yuuri’s chest and bounded toward him just as Victor stopped, his face lighting up.

“Yuuri!”

“Hello.” Yuuri scrambled to his feet. Victor had remembered his name – that was a surprise.

“It’s me, Victor! Remember me?”

Yuuri snorted at the absurdity of the question. “Yes, of course I remember you!”

“Good.” Victor was beaming. Yuuri couldn’t remember him ever beaming in Hasetsu.

“You cut your hair,” he said stupidly, gesturing.

“Ah, yes.” Victor ran a hand through his fringe. “Do you like it?”

“Um.” Yuuri flushed. “It’s nice.” The long hair had been beautiful, but he thought the cut made him look older somehow. He liked it.

“What are you doing in the city?”

“It’s kind of a long story.” Yuuri shuffled his feet, looking down at his trunk. “I’m just passing through. I’m on my way to a new school.”

Victor’s eyes widened. “Wow! I didn’t think you would ever want to leave Hasetsu.”

“Neither did I,” Yuuri admitted. “Until…” He trailed off, unsure how to explain that it was Victor himself who inspired him. “I needed a change.”

“I’m glad I ran into you.” Victor smiled. “Or, at least, Makkachin did.” Then the smile dropped suddenly. “Oh no. Your dog – I didn’t think. It must be painful to see Makkachin now—”

“It’s fine.” Yuuri found himself laughing. He rubbed Makkachin’s head as the dog drooled onto his leg. It really was fine. Vicchan’s absence was still a hole in his chest but it was nice to feel curly fur between his fingers again.

Victor seemed to brighten at the sound of his laugh. “Good! There’s so much I want to show you. How long are you here? Do you already have plans?”

“The coach leaves at sundown. And no, I don’t have plans. But I don’t want to take over your time . . .”

Victor waved a dismissive hand. “I’m not supposed to be doing anything too important. As long as my father doesn’t find us, we’re fine.”

His father, the king. Yuuri tried not to think about that.

“Let me show you around my city, Yuuri,” Victor said, his eyes shining. Yuuri found himself smiling back and once again didn’t think he would say no even if he could.

Victor insisted on pulling his trunk, only to exclaim at the weight and pass it off to a pair of city guards the next block over with instructions to take it to the eastern gate, where Yuuri’s coach would leave. It was a relief not to have to drag it around. Victor led the way through the streets and Yuuri noticed a marked difference in how he moved through the crowd while with Victor. People stepped out of his way when they saw his distinctive silver hair and heard Makkachin’s excited barks, keeping their eyes down in a way that suggested to Yuuri that this was no rare occurrence. Victor hardly seemed to notice it. He stuck close to Yuuri’s side, talking quickly about whatever they happened to be passing at the time, and occasionally putting an arm on his elbow when the crowd grew especially thick.

Yuuri also felt different in the crowd. Being with Victor made everything better; the tight panic in his chest from earlier was completely absent. He hardly minded when people bumped into him, or the constant noise surrounding him. It was like it had been with Vicchan; being with Victor made him calmer, somehow, as if it created a bubble of safety around him.

They ended up at the crowded market street that Yuuri had attempted to navigate and his nose was once again filled with a hundred different smells. Victor clapped a hand to his forehead.

“I didn’t even think to ask! Have you eaten anything?”

“No, but—”

“Come on, I’ll buy you breakfast.”

“I can pay, I have money . . .” Yuuri reached into his pockets, only to find them empty. “What?” He turned them inside out, but the coins he had put there yesterday were gone.

“Pickpocketers,” Victor said mournfully. “You have to be careful in this part of the city.” His face brightened. “But never mind, I’ll pay!”

“No, I don’t want to—”

“Yuuri.” Victor turned around to face him with his hands on his hips, pretending to look stern. “Don’t you dare tell me you don’t want to inconvenience me.”

Yuuri felt his face heat up. “Ah…sorry.”

“You’re my guest,” Victor said seriously. “I insist on paying for your meals today.”

That hardly seemed fair, since Yuuri had never bought Victor a meal when he was in Hasetsu, but Victor wouldn’t take no for an answer. Sighing, he gave up, and Victor grinned and grabbed his hand, pulling him into the crowded street.

They stopped at a stand selling sticky buns, Victor handing over money for two buns. He gave one to Yuuri and they continued along the street.

Somehow, Victor managed to keep talking even around the pastry. When they reached the other side of the long street, Yuuri finished the last of his bun only for Victor to look at him and burst out laughing.

“You’ve got icing all over your face!” Victor pulled his sleeve over his hand and wiped it across Yuuri’s cheek and Yuuri knew, even without seeing it, that his face was bright red. Moving his hand away, Victor said, “Come on, let’s get out of this crowd.”

Yuuri discovered that the entire city was not as crowded as this part. They moved away from the center and found quieter streets where they didn’t have to fight for a space to walk. Here, Victor exchanged smiles and sometimes words of greeting with the people they passed. Yuuri realized that people were staring at him, too. He tried not to catch any eyes, self-conscious.

“This cathedral up here is perfect for a quiet spot to sit and think,” Victor was saying, gesturing to a large, intricately designed building as they passed. “I like to sit in the bell tower and look out over the city. Oh! Up here is the best soup shop in the city. Are you hungry? We can come back later. You’ll tell me when you’re hungry, right? We have a lot to do today and I don’t want you to get tired.” Victor glanced back. “Yuuri, are you alright?”

Yuuri realized he had been frowning. “Sorry . . . I’m a little overwhelmed.”

Victor immediately looked concerned. “Of course, I didn’t think – you’ve never been in a place like this before. It must be a lot to take it.”

Yuuri nodded, not sure how to say that Victor himself was part of the reason. It seemed rude to think that, but it was true. Victor was all energy and fast talking and tiny touches to Yuuri’s arms and hands that left him shaken. It was so much all at once and Yuuri didn’t know how to keep up.

“I know somewhere we can go that will be quiet.” Victor took his hand and pulled him along. They ran through the streets with Makkachin barking at their heels until the buildings gave away to bare rock and a low stone wall and Yuuri found himself standing at the edge of the ocean.

Sunlight turned the still expanse of water into diamonds. The sky was clear and pale blue and seemed to go on forever until it touched down with the sea in a distant, hazy horizon. Yuuri heard a familiar sound and turned to see Victor smiling expectantly at him. “Seagulls!”

“I told you it was like Hasetsu.” Still holding his hand, Victor pulled him toward the water. A cliff face three times Yuuri’s height separated the city from the rocky beach below, but Victor led him down a pathway on the side of the cliff. It was colder down below, buffeted by wind and shaded from the light of the sun, but Yuuri didn’t mind. He laughed as Makkachin chased gulls along the shore, barking.

“Do you spend much time at the beach in Hasetsu?” Victor asked.

“Not much,” Yuuri admitted. “I used to with Vicchan, but after he died I didn’t have much reason to go.”

“I come here all the time,” Victor said. He gazed out across the water with a lost smile on his face and Yuuri noticed that his eyes were the same color as the sea. “The city is so crowded but here everything is wide open.” He threw his arms out as if to demonstrate. With his hair pushed back by the wind and his cheeks pink from running, Yuuri thought that he was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

They wandered along the shore, sometimes side-by-side and talking, sometimes a ways apart. From time to time, Victor stooped to pick up a particularly pretty stone or a piece of colored glass worn smooth by seawater. He insisted that Yuuri keep them, until Yuuri’s pockets were so weighted down by the trinkets that he had to tighten his belt.

The sun was high in the sky when they left the beach to return to the city streets. They stopped for noodles when Victor declared that he was hungry, sitting at an outdoor table under a wide umbrella. Yuuri stretched his legs out and let the sun warm his ankles.

“Have you ever seen a unicorn?” Victor asked unexpectedly.

Yuuri swallowed his mouthful of noodles. “No, they’re really rare, aren’t they?”

“There’s one at the palace now. Would you like to see it?”

Yuuri gaped at him. “Truly?”

“Yes!” Jumping to his feet, Victor pulled Yuuri up as well and they were off once again, this time in the direction of the palace. Yuuri could hardly think. The _palace_. It seemed inconceivable. At the front gates, the guards opened up for Victor with hardly a second glance at Yuuri, and then he was standing in front of an immense, breathtaking building of white and gold and blue.

Instead of going to the main door at the front of the building, Victor circled around the side of the palace, where they found a wide pasture alongside a low building that had to be the stables. A number of horses grazed languidly, but one in particular caught Yuuri’s eye because of the dark horn protruding from its forehead.

“It’s brown,” he said as they drew closer. “I thought unicorns were supposed to be white.”

“Not all of them.” Victor leaned his arms against the fence. “Isn’t he pretty though? He’s just a baby.”

“What’s his name?”

“He doesn’t have one yet.” Victor glanced at him. “Would you like to name him?”

“Me?” Yuuri’s eyes widened. “No, I couldn’t—”

“Go ahead. Give him a name.”

A command. Yuuri stared at the unicorn. The pale brown of its coat oddly reminded him of . . . “Katsudon.”

Victor let out a surprised laugh. “What does that mean?”

Yuuri flushed. “Um, it’s a dish that my mother makes. It’s my favorite dish. His color reminded me of it.”

“It’s perfect. Call out to him.”

Yuuri cleared his throat. “Katsudon!” he called softly.

“Come on, louder than that.”

“Katsudon!” Yuuri raised his voice. A few of the horses lifted their heads, including the unicorn, but he didn’t come toward them.

“I’ll teach him his name eventually,” Victor said.

“Victor!”

They both turned at the new voice to see a blond-haired boy stalking toward him.

“Ah, Yurio, I was hoping I wouldn’t see you here,” Victor said cheerfully.

“Your father is looking for you,” the boy snapped.

Victor waved a dismissive hand. “He’s always looking for me. Tell him I’m busy.”

“Busy yelling at horses?”

“Busy showing Yuuri around!” Victor threw his arm around Yuuri’s shoulders, nearly causing Yuuri to jump out of his skin. “It was rude of you not to let me introduce him. Yuuri, this is my cousin, Yurio.”

“ _My_ name is Yuri!” the boy hissed. He couldn’t have been older than twelve.

“I-it’s an honor to meet you,” Yuuri stammered, bowing.

“Yurio, this is Yuuri Katsuki from Hasetsu. Be nice.”

Yurio looked at Yuuri with narrowed eyes. “You’re onsen boy? Victor hasn’t stopped talking about you for months.”

Victor cleared his throat quickly. “I told you to be polite, Yurio.”

“I was telling the truth—”

“Yuuri, let’s go back to the city,” Victor said, pointedly turning away from Yurio. “You don’t want to spend all your time here at the palace.”

“O-okay,” Yuuri said.

Yurio fumed. “Don’t ignore me, you—”

Victor clapped a hand over his mouth, cutting him off. “Run along, Yurio, and don’t insult your elders. You don’t want to keep my father waiting.”

He grabbed Yuuri’s elbow and dragged him away as Yurio shouted after them, “You’re one to talk!”

Despite his carefree tone, Yuuri could see tension in Victor’s shoulders as they walked back toward the palace gates. “Is everything alright?” He wasn’t sure why he was asking. It certainly wasn’t his place to interfere.

“Of course.” Victor glanced at him and saw the skeptical look on his face. “My father can wait for another few hours. It’s nothing you have to trouble yourself with.”

Yuuri knew a dismissal when he heard it, so he said nothing as Victor led the way out of the palace grounds.

They spent the afternoon walking among the streets, stopping for food even when Yuuri wasn’t hungry because Victor insisted he had to try all the best places in the city. Even though Yuuri’s feet grew tired of walking, and even though he was still overwhelmed by everything around him, he was enjoying himself. He couldn’t remember the last time he had walked among this many strangers and felt at ease. Probably never.

Finally, as the day began to draw to a close and sun lowered over the sea, Victor led Yuuri to the eastern gate where his coach waited. Yuuri was relieved to discover that his trunk had found its way here safely. When Victor retrieved it from the guards, they both paused just inside the gate, realizing what this meant.

“How long are you at school?” Victor asked.

“Until next summer.”

“Perhaps if you come through the city again, you can come find me.” Victor stuck his hands in his pockets and looked down, shuffling his feet.

“Yes, of course.” It came out too quickly and Yuuri flushed. Someday, he thought, his was going to go bright red and never return to normal and it would be all Victor’s fault.

Victor pushed a hand through the hair that fell in front of his eyes. “Can I write to you?”

Dazed, Yuuri could only say, “Really?”

“Yes, really.” Victor laughed. “You’re my friend, Yuuri.”

“Oh.” Besides Yuuko, Yuuri didn’t think anyone had ever said this to him. “I-I mean, thank you. You’re my friend too.” He couldn’t think. “Of course. I just thought…”

“You thought what?”

Yuuri chewed on his lip. Now, at the end of the day, he could admit what he had been thinking these past months. “I thought you would have forgotten about me.”

Victor’s eyebrows pinched together. “I would never forget about you, Yuuri.”

Something in Yuuri’s chest felt warm. He didn’t know what to say.

“You should probably go.” Victor was looking toward the coach. “It looks like they’re leaving soon.”

“Right.” Unsure of what to do, Yuuri stuck out a hand. “Thank you for showing me around. And for everything.”

Smiling, Victor shook his hand. “It was my pleasure.”

Yuuri cleared his throat, dropped his eyes, and turned away. At the coach, he paid the fare and handed his trunk off to the driver, then turned to wave again before stepping inside. Victor raised a hand to wave back.

As the coach trundled away from the city, Yuuri watched the tiny grey smudge that was Victor’s hair grow dimmer in the gathering darkness. Even when he could no longer see it, he watched through the window until the city was nothing but a blur of lights in the distance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [find me on tumblr!](https://wecalleverythinglove.tumblr.com/)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well I meant to post this chapter much earlier, but life happened. I don't have a better reason than that. Anyways, I hope this one is worth the wait!

It was a two-day journey by coach from the capital to Celestino’s School for Boys. Yuuri didn’t expect it to be eventful; he slouched in his seat by the window and watched trees and fields flash past and replayed his day in the city with Victor over and over in his head.

The coach made a few stops along the way, for meals and to pick up or drop off passengers and to replace the horse and driver. The sun slanted through the window, warming Yuuri’s lap, and he found himself dozing off for long stretches of the journey.

Sometime in the afternoon of the second day of the journey, the coach unexpectedly began to speed up from its leisurely pace. It wobbled in the bumpy road and Yuuri glanced around at the half dozen other passengers, who looked as uneasy as he felt. It couldn’t be safe to drive this fast. Somebody banged on the roof to get the driver’s attention.

“Oh no.” One man was looking out the back window. Yuuri leaned over to peer through, along with most of the other passengers. The road behind them was hidden in a cloud of dust, kicked up by the group of runners trailing behind them. Their broad, hunched figures were indistinct, and though Yuuri had never seen them in person, he had seen enough drawings in books to recognize them.

“Ogres,” he breathed. The other passengers were realizing the same thing; cries and curses rose up, and a few pressed themselves back into their seats with tears in their eyes.

Yuuri’s mind raced. Ogres usually weren’t a danger for travellers on the road; they stayed in the forests where they weren’t hunted down by knights or angry villagers. He didn’t know how fast they could run, but surely it wasn’t faster than a horse, was it? They were safe, as long as . . .

Then he heard their voices. Their words were inaudible but Yuuri could hear the sweet, sickly honey poured over them. He stuffed his fingers into his ears. Ogres’ words were persuasive to the ordinary person but to him they would be irresistible. They could tell him to step out of the coach and he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from becoming their next meal.

A few of the others followed Yuuri’s lead, but those who didn’t suddenly went still, their faces slack. The ogres’ voices must be getting closer. One or two of the passengers began inching toward the doors.

Then, horribly, the coach began to slow. The ogres’ voices had reached the driver. If he stopped the coach, they would all be dead within seconds. Yuuri’s eyes widened with panic and without thinking, he shouted, “ _Drive!_ ”

A woman echoed him, then another man. The chant spread through the coach. “Drive! Drive! Drive!” As it drowned out the ogres’ voices, the others shook themselves free of their influence and joined, building the chant louder and louder. Closing his eyes, his fingers in his ears, and shouting at the top of his voice, Yuuri prayed that it was enough.

Then the coach lurched once again, reeling into motion. Nobody stopped chanting until the cloud of dust behind them was long out of sight. Only then did Yuuri take his fingers from his ears and slump into his seat, shaken.

Yuuri was supposed to arrive at his new school after sunset, but the sun was still in the sky when the coach stopped for him. Their mad dash away from the ogres had sped up the journey quite a bit. Stiff legged, Yuuri stepped onto the road just outside the school gates and looked up.

The school was an immense but simple brick building – five or six stories high and so wide that its ends were obscured by the trees that thickly populated its grounds. A huge, wrought iron gate barred the front. Yuuri took his trunk from the driver and walked toward the gate, relieved when it pushed open at his touch.

With the evening sunlight behind the building, the school appeared dark and imposing. Yuuri’s apprehension grew as he walked up the path to the front door. This was a mistake; he shouldn’t have come here. He should have stayed at home where he belonged, where he was safe. What kind of fool willingly goes out into an unfriendly and hostile world when he has a curse of obedience? His throat was dry. Every step felt like a challenge.

Then the front door opened and a man with a long ponytail and bushy eyebrows stepped out and waved. “Ciao! You must be a new student!”

Yuuri swallowed hard and quickened his pace. “Yes, sir. Yuuri Katsuki.”

“Welcome, Yuuri! I’m Celestino Cialdini, the headmaster.”

Reaching the front step, Yuuri bowed. “It’s an honor to meet you.”

“Come inside.” Celestino stepped through the door and gestured to Yuuri. “You’ve just missed dinner, but I can have something brought to your room. Now, your paperwork should all be in order. I’ll give you your key and let you get settled in.”

The entrance hall was simple, with a wide, arching ceiling and whitewashed walls. It branched off into a number of different hallways and staircases; Celestino led the way down one to the left. The door at the end of the hall led to a wood-paneled office, where Celestino rifled through a stack of envelopes on the desk.

“Yuuri Katsuki,” he muttered, as Yuuri lingered by the door. “Ah, here we are. Room 307. Here’s your key.” He handed a small, scratched up key to Yuuri. “Classes start tomorrow morning.”

Yuuri bowed again. “Thank you, sir.”

He left, only to realize that he had no idea where to go. Not wanting to bother Celestino again, he walked back to the entrance hall and chose a staircase at random.

It took twenty minutes of wandering through the identical, plain white hallways of the school, dragging his heavy trunk behind him, before he found what seemed to be the dorm area. He could hear voices behind closed doors and saw numbers painted on them. Now, he stood next to one that said 319 – he couldn’t be far from his own room. He continued down the hall until he found the door marked 307, then turned the knob and peeked inside.

The first thing he noticed was a boy sitting on one of the two beds pushed against opposite walls. Dark skinned, dark haired, and, when he looked up to see Yuuri standing in the doorway, bright eyed. A smile spread across his face and he jumped to his feet.

“You must be Yuuri!” he exclaimed, leaping across the room to shake Yuuri’s hand. He had an accent that Yuuri thought he’d heard before, though he couldn’t place it. “I’m Phichit, your roommate!”

“H-hi,” Yuuri stammered. “It’s good to meet you.”

“Did you get lost? It’s easy to get lost here. Somebody from the kitchen brought up a tray of food for you five minutes ago.” Phichit pointed to a tray on the bed that he hadn’t been sitting on. Yuuri’s empty stomach whined. Pushing his trunk against the wall, he moved to sit cross-legged on the bed, devouring the meal of potatoes and overcooked turkey. Phichit sat back down on the bed opposite and watched him, almost expectantly.

Swallowing a mouthful of potato, Yuuri asked, “Is this your first year here?”

“Yep!” Phichit’s face seemed to be made for smiling. “Yours too, right?”

Yuuri nodded.

“Are you from around here?”

“I’m from Hasetsu. It’s a few days’ journey from here, on the coast.”

“I’m from the coast too!” Phichit said excitedly. “But a lot farther south. I’m from Prathet.”

That explained the accent. Yuuri knew he had heard it from travellers from Prathet, the kingdom from the south of their own. When he was younger, it had seemed like worlds away, but Yuuri supposed it was actually closer to Hasetsu than Celestino’s School was.

“I got here this morning,” Phichit was saying. “Phew, I was so tired of that coach. Somebody in there smelled terrible and it was days of sitting without anything exciting happening.”

Yuuri smiled down at his plate. “You’re not going to believe what happened to me on the way here.”

When related the story about the ogres, Phichit’s mouth fell open. “I can’t believe you survived that and are sitting here right now to tell me about it! Yuuri, you’re a badass!”

Yuuri had never once considered himself a badass in any way, but he liked the idea. Before he knew it, he and Phichit were talking like real friends, trading stories as if they hadn’t met only minutes before. Yuuri learned that Phichit grew up in a small fishing village in Prathet, and his family had been saving up for him to go to school and become an artist like he’d always wanted. Phichit told stories of menial things as if they were epics, turning the people of his village into hilarious caricatures. Yuuri found himself laughing so hard his sides hurt. Within a few hours, he felt more comfortable talking to Phichit than he did with some people he’d known for years.

Later, when their conversation finally began to wind down, Phichit asked if Yuuri wanted to meet some of the other boys on their floor. Yuuri said, “Maybe later.” He didn’t think he could do with much more excitement today. After his stressful journey, all he wanted was a good night’s sleep. He missed his family’s onsen and wondered if this school had any bathtubs.

That night as he fell asleep, he smiled into his pillow and thought, _Maybe this won’t be so bad after all._

 

* * *

 

In the morning, Yuuri was woken by a fist pounding on the door and a voice shouting, “GET UP.” Before his brain was fully awake, before he had even processed where he was, his body was pulling itself out of his warm sheets. As he stood there, his feet cold on the wooden floor, trying to remember what was going on, Phichit lifted his head and peered at him blearily.

“I don’t think they meant literally, Yuuri,” he snorted.

Flushing, Yuuri turned away to dig through his trunk. Outside, the sun was barely peeking through the trees, but Yuuri knew that classes started early and he wanted to get breakfast beforehand. He got dressed in the grey uniform folded at the bottom of his trunk, then waited while Phichit sullenly got out of bed to do the same. They walked down to the dining hall together, Phichit leading the way.

The hall was already a buzz of activity. Boys of all ages crowded around long wooden tables, stuffing food into their faces, as grey morning light streamed through the long windows that lined the walls. Phichit brought Yuuri to the table where they loaded up trays with piles of food, then waved to someone near the wall and led the way over.

“Yuuri, this is Seung-gil, Leo, and Guang Hong,” he introduced the three boys that they sat down beside. “They all live on the same floor as us. Everyone, this is Yuuri, my roommate!”

They exchanged greetings, and then Phichit asked Seung-gil about something, and the conversation moved on. Yuuri stayed silent, concentrating on his food and on not getting overwhelmed by all the noise around him. Back in the capital, the commotion of too many people had been manageable when Victor was with him. He couldn’t help but wish that Victor was here now, too.

Classes began right after breakfast. Yuuri had decided to keep his head down, but that plan was blown to bits as soon as the teacher walked into the room. “Good morning, boys,” he said, and when the class gave a noncommittal mumble in reply, he commanded, “Louder!”

Yuuri practically shouted, “Good morning, sir!” He clapped a hand over his mouth, his face burning red, as every eye in the classroom turned to him.

“Ah.” The teacher folded his arms, fixing Yuuri in his narrowed gaze. “Thank you, Mister . . .?”

“Katsuki,” Yuuri whispered, wishing he could crawl under his desk. “Yuuri Katsuki.”

“Say that again, louder. You didn’t seem to have trouble speaking up earlier.”

“Yuuri Katsuki!” Yuuri repeated in that same almost-shout. His eyes pricked with mortified tears and he stared down at his desk.

“I see.” The teacher’s voice was cold. Wanting nothing more than to disappear, Yuuri kept his gaze turned downward until his eyes stopped stinging.

The rest of the day passed in much the same way. Teachers tossed out commands without thinking and Yuuri had no choice but to obey. Some commands, like taking out a pencil or introducing himself to someone nearby, weren’t so bad, but others, like the one before, left Yuuri’s ears burning red. He was realizing quickly why his parents had chosen to homeschool him rather than subject him to this at a young age.

By the end of the day, he was exhausted. He had skipped lunch, not ready to face the crowded dining hall again and instead hiding in a bathroom, forcing himself to take deep breaths. His stomach pinched painfully, but he tried to ignore it as he slumped into his room. Phichit wasn’t there. As much as he liked his new roommate, he was relieved to have some time to himself.

Sitting down at his desk, he pulled out a piece of paper and began a letter to his family and Minako. _I made it to the school safely._ He chose not to mention the brush with the ogres. _The capital city was huge but beautiful._ He left out any mention of Victor. _I’ve only had one day of school, but it seems good so far_. He wasn’t sure why he wasn’t being completely honest. Maybe he didn’t want them to worry. Maybe he didn’t want to admit to himself how much he was struggling.

Finishing the letter and sealing it in an envelope to send at the next opportunity he got, he pulled another sheet of paper toward him. His pen hovered over the page. How should he start it? _Dear Victor?_ That seemed much too familiar. _Dear your highness?_ But hadn’t Victor told him to call him by his name? Unsure, Yuuri skipped straight to the body of the letter.

He kept it short, not wanting to bore Victor. Like with the letter to his family, he assured Victor that he had arrived safely, though with this one he added, _We had a near disaster with ogres on the road, but we made it out, I’m glad to say_. That would let Victor ask him more if he wanted, but it wouldn’t force him to read a long anecdote that he might not be interested in.

When he finished, Yuuri scrawled a simple _Victor_ across the top and signed it, _Yours, Yuuri._ Before he could second guess himself, he stuffed it into an envelope as well. Hoping that Victor wasn’t already regretting asking him to write, Yuuri leaned back in his chair and exhaled slowly.

 

* * *

 

The week passed in a haze. In classes, Yuuri often found himself concentrating more on the commands that his teachers were giving than the lessons themselves, which put him behind in schoolwork and made him even more the target of attention. He tried to put extra effort into doing his work, but it was hard to focus when all he could think about was what he was going to be forced to do next. More than once, a teacher caught him zoning out and snapped, “Katsuki! Repeat what I just said.” Burning red, Yuuri had to mumble, “Repeat what I just said.” Needless to say, his teachers weren’t pleased with that.

Other than Phichit, he had barely gotten to know anyone at the school. He and Phichit sometimes sat with Seung-gil, Leo, and Guang Hong at meals, but Yuuri rarely joined in the conversation. He didn’t mind this. Phichit was a good friend, and Yuuri tried not to care that most of his classmates seemed to think he was odd. Sometimes, Phichit would ask Yuuri if he wanted to join him to hang out with some of the other boys, but Yuuri always made the excuse that he was busy with schoolwork.

Victor’s reply came sooner than Yuuri expected. He found the letter in his mailbox and something inside him warmed when he saw his name written in that same thin, looping handwriting as the note Victor had left on his doorstep all those months ago.

 _Dear Yuuri_ ,

_I’m glad to hear you’re at your school! And ogres??? I must know more! You can’t leave me in suspense like this! You’re not hurt, are you? If you’re hurt, I’ll find the ogres myself and make them sorry!_

_How do you like school? Have you made any new friends? Nobody to replace me, I hope. If anybody is mean to you, tell them you’re friends with the prince and that will probably shut them up._

_I wish you could have stayed longer in the capital. I feel like there’s still so much I want to show you. That day was the most fun I’ve had in a long time. I think of you every time I hear the seagulls. And Makkachin misses you. So does Katsudon. (I’ve started teaching him his name and he even answers to it sometimes!) So do I._

_Write back soon. I want to hear every detail of your life._

_Yours,_

_Victor_  

Yuuri pressed the letter to his forehead and hid his smile in his hands. Victor wrote like he spoke: unfiltered, honest, seeming too fast for his mouth – or hand – to keep up. Yuuri could almost imagine his voice as he read his words. As soon as he got the chance, he sat down at his desk to write a reply, including an in-depth description of his encounter with the ogres.

The following weeks passed in a similar fashion. Classes were a struggle to get through every day, and evenings were spent trying to catch up on the work he hadn’t been able to finish in class. Phichit wouldn’t give up on his attempts to get Yuuri out of their room, and while Yuuri appreciated the sentiment, he always refused. He liked it better when it was just the two of them, sitting on their respective beds and talking.

Every few days, there was a new letter from Victor to look forward to. Sometimes there were multiple letters at a time, when Victor thought of something he wanted to tell Yuuri before the last one even arrived, and simply sent another one instead of waiting. Every time he found a letter in his mailbox, Yuuri’s day got a little brighter. He didn’t care if Victor was talking about the banal details of his day or whatever royal dignitary was visiting the palace or what Makkachin had eaten for breakfast. Yuuri drank in every word eagerly, always wishing for more. He kept his letters short for the most part, squeezing them between homework assignments. There wasn’t much to talk about, anyway. His days were mostly all the same.

Autumn rolled around, bringing blustery mornings and grey skies. The weather sent most of the boys at the school scurrying indoors much of the time, and Yuuri found that he liked to walk around the grounds when there were few people around. Sometimes he brought his books and found a spot under a tree where the ground wasn’t too muddy to do work. Even if it meant getting caught in the rain a few times, he thought it was worth it for the solitude and sense of calm it brought him.

He thought he might actually like it here if it weren’t for the curse. That seemed to be the main thing holding him back from making more friends or doing better in his classes. The classes themselves were interesting, for the most part. He learned history and arithmetic and writing and fencing and dancing. He learned about Victor’s entire family tree, memorizing the names of kings from up to three hundred years ago. In one letter to Victor that he wrote while trying to study for an upcoming test, he listed them out, only to receive a reply a few days later where Victor admitted that Yuuri knew his ancestry better than he did himself. Yuuri even discovered that he was a good dancer, to everyone’s surprise, including his own. His dance instructor quickly learned that Yuuri was the one to ask to demonstrate new moves to the class. When Yuuri bashfully admitted this to Victor in a letter, Victor lamented that he wasn’t there to teach him. Apparently, all of Victor’s dance instructors were incompetent.

Phichit noticed all the letters that Yuuri was receiving early on, but when he asked Yuuri about it, Yuuri remained tight-lipped. He didn’t know how to explain that he was writing to the prince. It felt like a secret, but a good one, unlike his curse. It was the type of secret that he held close to his chest, enjoying the warmth that it brought him. Phichit just laughed and rolled his eyes whenever he caught Yuuri smiling stupidly at a letter from what he called his “secret admirer.” Yuuri brushed off the teasing, even if he sort of liked it. He would never admit it to himself, but sometimes he liked to think of Victor as a secret admirer. He wondered if Victor wrote to anyone else the way he wrote to Yuuri.

When Yuuri’s birthday came around in late November, he offhandedly mentioned this to Victor. A few days later, he entered the mailroom to find five fresh bouquets and six boxes of chocolate all addressed to him. Hiding his blushing face in his hands, Yuuri couldn’t help but laugh. Phichit’s eyes widened when he brought them into their room, and he didn’t stop teasing Yuuri about it for weeks. In his next letter, he thanked Victor profusely, even though he knew it wasn’t enough to fully express his gratitude.

On Victor’s birthday, a month later, he wished he could send gifts to equal what Victor had given him. Instead, he wove a bracelet from strips of canvas he tore from a ripped fencing uniform, then dyed it blue. He apologized that it was only a small thing, but the letter he got in return was gushing with thanks.

He also wrote to his family, updating them on his everyday life. Trying not to show how much he was struggling, he left out how frustrating the curse was in his classes. In return, they told him that the onsen was doing well and kept him up to date on all the small town gossip of Hasetsu. To his delight, he got a letter sometime during the winter from Yuuko, telling him that she and Takeshi were getting married. He wrote back giving them a thousand good wishes and apologizing that he had to miss the wedding.

Winter passed into spring and Yuuri was doing no better in his classes, no matter how hard he tried. The curse made everything fifty times more difficult than they needed to be. Tired of being forced to do whatever his teachers told him to do, he began to push back in little ways, whatever ways he could. His history teacher would tell him to read a passage and he would read it in a whisper. When the teacher told him to speak up, Yuuri would raise his voice to a shout, and when he was told to be quieter, he dropped back down to a whisper. On and on, until his teacher was red in the face and in a foul mood. Yuuri would do the same when his fencing instructor told him to lunge farther, or when his arithmetic teacher told him to write larger on the chalkboard. It didn’t make his teachers like him any more, but it gave Yuuri a thrill of vindication. He was tired of being bossed around. He had never been a disobedient person – had never been able to – but here he found in himself a spark of defiance that he never knew he had. And he liked it.

He wanted to share these small triumphs with Victor, even though that would mean telling Victor everything. But he _wanted_ to tell Victor everything. It felt like they grew closer with every letter and Yuuri longed to tell him the whole truth, hold nothing back. Part of him wondered if he would do it if Minako hadn’t commanded him not to tell anyone all those years ago. Most days, he thought he would.

More than anything, he wanted to see Victor again. They had only met twice, but somehow Yuuri felt that he knew Victor better than almost anyone else in his life. It felt silly when he thought about it, but it was true nonetheless. He wanted to see Victor, hear his voice and his laugh, and see the way his eyes lit up when he was excited about something. He wanted more than pages of words scrawled onto paper. As precious as they were to him – he kept them neatly stacked beside his bed and read them sometimes when he couldn’t sleep – they weren’t enough. Sometimes, he thought Victor felt the same way. More than once he had expressed the wish to escape from the city for a few days and visit Yuuri. They both knew that was impossible, as he had far too many duties to take care of, but it was a nice thought nonetheless. Though Yuuri had no idea what the other boys at the school would say if the prince appeared at the gates asking to see him.

Spring brought back sunshine and Yuuri spent more and more time outdoors, walking among the grounds and avoiding the other boys. It felt good to breathe fresh air after a winter spent indoors. One day, he realized it had been exactly a year since Vicchan died, and he immediately wrote home to ask Mari to place a flower on his grave.

(At the same time, he realized that it had also been a year since he met Victor, though he didn’t mention this in his next letter to him.)

Only two months remained of the school year. After that, Yuuri would return home to spend the summer with his family. He might even pass through the capital again and see Victor. He couldn’t help the butterflies of excitement that sprang to life in his stomach every time that he thought about this.

Then one rainy afternoon, Yuuri got a letter from Victor. This was nothing unusual, but when he opened the letter, the tone was much different than usual.

_Yuuri,_

_I’m sorry, but I have to stop writing you for a while. I’m going to be on the road for the next two months and I won’t have anyplace for you to write to. I can’t say exactly why, but it’s for official royal things and I would a thousand times rather stay at home just to keep getting your letters. Unfortunately I don’t think my father will take this as an excuse._

_Two months is a terribly long time to not hear from you and I can’t apologize enough. I hope I can be back in the city by the time you come through again. I couldn’t bear it if I missed you. I’ve been looking forward to this for months._

_Yuuri, I will miss many things while I’m on the road. Makkachin, my bed, having hot cooked meals. But most of all, I will miss you._

_Yours,_

_Victor_

_P.S. Write back quickly. I leave in five days and I want to have something from you to carry with me._

Yuuri’s stomach sank as he read. Two whole months without a letter from Victor? Somehow, those letters had become the bright spots in his otherwise dull days, and the prospect of having to continue without them was bleak. What could be so important that Victor had to be on the road for two months? Yuuri immediately chided himself for that thought. It wasn’t his place to question the prince’s duties. That was his selfishness thinking; he wanted to keep Victor all to himself, which wasn’t remotely fair.

All he wanted now was to lie on his bed and wallow in his sadness, but Victor had asked for a quick reply. Folding the new letter and setting it beside his bed with the others, Yuuri sat down at his desk and pulled out a piece of paper.

_Dear Victor,_

He stopped. Everything he wanted to say sounded whiny or ungrateful. He didn’t want Victor to think that he resented the duties that Victor had to perform as the prince, even though deep down a part of him did. Deciding to keep it simple, Yuuri wrote:

_I’m sorry that I won’t be hearing from you. I’ll miss your updates on palace life and Makkachin’s adventures. Of course I wish that you didn’t have to stop writing, but I understand that this is more important. I also hope that you’ll be back in the city when I come. Until then, stay safe._

_Yours,_

_Yuuri_

That didn’t show his disappointment too clearly, he thought. Victor had been profuse in his apology, but surely it was just him being polite. There was no way Yuuri’s letters could mean as much to him as his letters meant to Yuuri. Sealing the brief letter in an envelope, he brought it back down to the mailroom, where it would be sent on to the capital in the morning.

After that, his days seemed a little darker. Yuuri found that he had little to enjoy or look forward to. Of course, he would be going home to the onsen in a few months, but day-to-day there was nothing to cheer him up when he felt gloomy. Spending time with Phichit was still nice, and from time to time his friend was able to lift his spirits. But Yuuri couldn’t deny it – he missed Victor.

A month dragged by. Yuuri found himself wanting to tell Victor about the details of his day, silly things like the way the daffodils waved at him as he walked through the grounds, only to remember that he couldn’t. He hadn’t realized before this how writing to Victor had made even the most mundane days feel special, simply by the fact that he had someone to tell about it.

The year was coming to a close and it seemed like Yuuri’s teachers were getting bossier by the day. Many of them had caught on to Yuuri’s strategies of defiance and had now come up with ways to make his life even more miserable. He still resisted, but without the same enthusiasm as before. Most of the time, he just wished they would stop talking.

Phichit worried about him, Yuuri could tell. As he spent more and more time spent cooped up in their room, Phichit asked more and more frequently if Yuuri would join him and some of the others outside. Yuuri declined every time, hating the way Phichit’s face fell, but not finding the energy to interact with others.

He missed his family and Minako and Yuuko and the safe familiarity of Hasetsu. He missed Vicchan. He missed Victor. He missed everything and everyone that wasn’t here.

One morning at breakfast, Yuuri sat with Phichit and some of the other boys. As usual, they were all having their own conversations while Yuuri picked at his food. Leo and Guang Hong were talking right next to him and Yuuri listened in indifferently.

“My cousin won’t stop talking about it,” Leo was saying. “It’s kind of annoying, actually.”

“A giant’s wedding!” Guang Hong said in a marveling voice. “That would be amazing! I wish I could go.”

“Me too,” Leo griped. “He keeps rubbing it in my face that he’s going to meet all these magical beings. Apparently, fairies love giants’ weddings.”

Yuuri sat up straighter. “Did you say fairies?”

Leo and Guang Hong looked at him in surprise; Yuuri rarely spoke to them. “Uh . . . yeah,” Leo said uncertainly. “I guess fairies from all over the kingdom go to weddings of other magical beings.”

They looked at Yuuri curiously for another few seconds, but Yuuri said nothing, deep in thought. In the past months, he had barely thought about JJ – he had nearly forgotten his original goal in leaving home. But here at last was an opportunity, however slim, to find the fairy that had cursed him. After all, if fairies came from all over the kingdom, couldn’t JJ be there? If not, surely he could find someone who knew him.

Yuuri had to go. He couldn’t miss his first real chance of breaking his curse. There was still another month left of school, but he wasn’t sure how much longer he could take this. He doubted he would want to come back for the next year anyway, so why waste any more time here?

“Leo, when did you say that wedding was happening?” Yuuri asked, trying to sound casual.

“This weekend.” Leo frowned at him, but didn’t ask further. Yuuri nodded and went back to his food, his mind racing.

He knew that the giants lived east of here. If we went on foot, he could probably get there in time. But he would have to leave soon. Tonight, even.

That afternoon, he began packing his things into a knapsack. He would have to leave most of his possessions here, which he regretted, but perhaps someone would be kind enough to send it back to the onsen. After dinner, he snuck into the kitchen and stuffed as many apples and loaves of bread and dried meats as he could fit into his shirt.

He didn’t know how to tell Phichit, or if he even should. When Phichit came into their room, Yuuri hid his knapsack under the bed and answered his cheerful questions like he would on any other day. They went to bed like normal, and Yuuri lay awake under his covers until the whole building had gone silent.

Then he sat up and swung himself out of bed. He changed out of his pajamas and retrieved his knapsack, then hesitated.

He couldn’t leave without telling Phichit. He owed him at least some kind of explanation; Phichit was one of the best friends he had ever had. Swallowing hard, Yuuri hissed through the darkness, “Phichit!”

“Whaaaa,” Phichit grumbled into his pillow.

“Wake up.”

“Yuuri, what?” Phichit lifted his head up, rubbing his eyes and peering across the dark room. “It’s the middle of the night. Go—”

“I’m running away,” Yuuri whispered before Phichit could tell him to go back to bed. At that, Phichit fell silent. He sat up in bed, suddenly seeming wide awake.

“You’re leaving?”

“I can’t really explain why.” Yuuri bit his lip, hating all of the secrets. “I wish I could. But I can’t stay here any longer.”

“Does this have anything to do with that giant’s wedding that Leo was talking about?”

“What? How did you know?”

“Leo was wondering why you were asking about it. What’s so important about it?”

“I wish I could tell you.” The words were right on his tongue but they wouldn’t come out. _I’m cursed_. “But I can’t. I physically can’t.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

“I know.” Yuuri couldn’t keep the frustration out of his voice. “I’ll explain it all to you someday, I promise. Soon, I hope.”

Phichit climbed out of bed to padded across the room on bare feet to wrap Yuuri in his arms. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too,” Yuuri whispered into his shoulder.

Drawing back, Phichit squeezed his arms encouragingly. “Good luck out there.”

Yuuri started to step away, then stopped. With all the secrets that he was keeping, he wanted to tell at least one truth that wasn’t worth hiding anymore. “Phichit, you know that person I’ve been writing to all year?”

“Your secret admirer?”

Yuuri took a breath. “That’s the prince.”

“ _What?”_

 

* * *

 

It took Yuuri another hour to leave after that because Phichit wanted to know everything. A little embarrassed, Yuuri had explained it all – how he and Victor met, their encounter in the city, and the letters they had been writing back and forth for the past eight months. For the first time since Yuuri had known him, Phichit admitted that he didn’t know what to say.

They finally parted with hugs and wishes of good luck and promises to keep in touch. Then Yuuri crept out of the school with his knapsack on his back, out the front gates, and onto the road.

He had stolen a map from the history classroom earlier in the day and memorized exactly where to go; now, he turned left on the road alongside the school and began walking. It would be a long journey to reach the giants’ village, but he was determined. He had to make it to that wedding.

When the sun came up, he was still walking. Eventually, he found a hollow beneath a tree on the side of the road to curl up in, closing his eyes and resting his aching feet. Hours later, when he opened his eyes to a blazing sunny afternoon, he stood up and stretched, ate an apple, and kept walking.

The next two days passed in the same way. Yuuri’s body ached from constantly walking, but there was something freeing about being alone on the road, with nobody to tell him what to do. Unlike being alone in the city, he wasn’t nervous here; it was just him and the sun and wind and trees. He passed the occasional fellow traveller, but none of them caused him any trouble. He followed the map tucked in his pocket and managed not to get lost. Judging by the pace he was setting, he would reach the giants’ village just in time.

He had begun finding his sleeping spots deeper in the woods so that he wouldn’t be woken up every time a wagon rolled past. On the third night of his journey, he felt his way through the dark trees until the forest slanted down into a small glen littered with the shadowy shapes of boulders. Avoiding the rocks, Yuuri settled down between two thick tree roots, rolling his coat up as a pillow. He smiled up at the stars peeking through the branches. Never before had he felt this kind of freedom.

Grey light was streaming through the trees when something prodded his thigh, jostling him awake. He rubbed his eyes, putting on his glasses as the blurry shapes around him came into focus.

A squeak escaped his mouth and he immediately clapped his hand over it. Heart pounding, Yuuri looked around. The shapes that he had thought were boulders during the night weren’t boulders at all. Somehow, Yuuri had walked into and spent the night in a den of ogres.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's not ogre till it's ogre.  
> [feel free to come talk to me on tumblr!](https://wecalleverythinglove.tumblr.com/)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can someone please explain to me why I thought it would be a good idea to write a multi-chapter fic in the middle of my busiest time of year?
> 
> Anyways, I have a brief window of time before finals hit where I'm not TOO busy, so I've been writing like crazy. Hopefully finals won't put me too behind!
> 
> Enjoy this chapter!

It took Yuuri about two seconds to accept that he was going to die. Surrounded by ogres, alone and unarmed, and cursed with obedience – he had a zero percent chance of surviving this. He was going to be devoured by the ogres that crowded around him and his family would never know what happened to him.

His family. A pang shot through him at that thought. He was never going to see his family again. How could he do this to them? They would be left with no body to bury, only an empty coffin and a headstone to place next to Vicchan’s.

The ogres were arguing. A few of them had dumped out the food from Yuuri’s knapsack and were shifting through it, while a few others were quarrelling loudly. He looked around, counting seven ogres, and tried not to imagine how he was going to be divvied up between them.

“We should wait to eat it,” one of the ogres was saying heatedly. “We just had that horse last night, so we should save it until we’re hungrier.”

“But I’m hungry now,” another smaller ogre whined.

“Eat its rations.” The first ogre threw one of Yuuri’s apples to the smaller one, who sniffed it distastefully and tossed it to the side.

“It might not be fresh later,” a third ogre reasoned. “We should eat it now.”

“We’ll keep it alive until later,” the first ogre said impatiently. “I never said we have to kill it now.”

The ogres looked over at Yuuri. He felt sick – they were talking about him. All he could think was how desperately he didn’t want to die. His heart was pounding so fast that he could feel it in his ears. He wanted to see his family again, and Hasetsu, and visit Vicchan’s grave. He wanted to see Victor – no, he couldn’t think about that, his gut twisting. He didn’t want to imagine how Victor would react if he somehow found out what happened to Yuuri.

The ogres were still staring at him. “Well, human?” one of them demanded. “Do you want to be eaten now or later?”

Yuuri cleared his throat, his racing heart making his head feel light. “What if you don’t eat me at all?” His voice shook.

The ogres burst out laughing. Yuuri clenched his fists as that spark of defiance that had gotten him through school rose up. He refused to die today. It was a relief to tell himself that, as if thinking it would make it come true. He was going to live and see his family again. Determined, he took a deep breath.

“Let me go,” he said, his voice loud and steady. The ogres’s laughter cut off, confused. Yuuri tried to remember everything he knew about ogres’ notorious ability to convince people to do whatever they wanted. He had read books about, even nearly experienced it firsthand on the way to school months ago. Ogres poured honey into their voices and gave commands as if they had no doubt they would be obeyed. Yuuri knew all about obeying commands.

“Let me go,” he said again, layering sweetness onto his words. They would let him go – he couldn’t doubt that for a moment. He would force them to, using their tricks against them.

The ogres looked too confused to resist. One of them opened its mouth, but closed it again, scratching its head in puzzlement.

“I’m going to walk away,” Yuuri said, keeping his voice steady and sure. “You’re going to stay here and let me leave.”

None of the ogres moved when Yuuri stood up. They all stared at the ground, bewilderment on their rough, ugly faces, as Yuuri stepped between them. Slowly, slowly, moving like syrup though his heart beat rabbit-fast.

“You won’t follow me,” he commanded. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw one of the ogres nodding. “I’m leaving now.”

He stepped out of the ring of ogres. He was going to escape; he could hardly believe it. So close now to safety. How was this possible? He shouldn’t have been able to . . . His certainty wavered.

“Hey, stop!”

An ogre’s voice. Yuuri’s feet planted in the ground. No, no. He couldn’t move. Panic crept up inside him. He heard movement behind him but couldn’t see what was going on. Had his control broken?

“Tell me to walk away,” he commanded, but his voice shook. He couldn’t bring back the confidence that he needed.

An ogre laughed. “The human’s got a pretty voice, but we don’t need any of that to make it do what we want. It would chop off its own head if we told it to.”

Yuuri squeezed his eyes shut. If there was ever a time for him to break the curse, it was now. He willed his feet to move. Just an inch, that was all it would take. Every muscle in his body was tensed, trying to force himself forward. His head swam. Nausea rose up in his throat. _Move!_ he screamed at himself. _Move!_ He couldn’t, he couldn’t. A rough hand closed around his elbow.

The ogre spun him around, grinning into his face. “I think we’ll eat you now to save ourselves the trouble.”

Something zipped past Yuuri’s ear and an arrow appeared from nowhere, protruding out of the ogre’s eye. It bellowed and threw Yuuri backward as it keeled over, dead. Yuuri stumbled and his heel caught a tree root. The last thing he registered before he hit the ground and slammed the back of his head into a tree was a blur of color, the thunder of hooves, and the roar of ogres.

 

* * *

 

“Yuuri!”

Something warm was touching Yuuri’s face. It felt like a hand, but not the rough hand of an ogre. He groaned and cracked his eyes open. His head ached. Somebody was leaning over him, but everything was blurry.

“My glasses,” he mumbled, and somebody pressed them into his hands. When he brought them up to his eyes, a smiling and familiar face swam into focus. “Victor?”

He was imagining this. He had hit his head and was dreaming that the prince coming to rescue him. The ogres were probably tearing him apart even now, but his mind was carrying him away to some distant fantasy land where Victor was kneeling over him. Victor, whose hair was in disarray, who had dirt smudged across his cheek, whose smile was blinding. Victor, who wasn’t disappearing even as Yuuri stared.

“I don’t know how I keep running into you, Yuuri Katsuki, but I’m glad I do,” Victor laughed.

He was real. Without thinking, Yuuri sat up and threw his arms around his neck. “I’ve never been happier to see anyone in my life,” he breathed. Victor was wearing armor, which pressed cold and uncomfortable into Yuuri, but he didn’t want to let go.

A second later, though, his brain caught up and he pulled away, his face burning. Clearly he had hit his head hard enough to jostle his common sense.

“Are you alright?” Victor helped him into a comfortable sitting position. “How’s your head?”

Yuuri lifted his fingers to the back of his skull and winced at the knot already forming. “I think I’ll be fine.” For the first time, he looked around properly. Victor was not the only one who had come to his rescue; nine other men in armor were spread through the glen, many of them with swords out, a few on horseback. The ogres all lay dead at their feet.

“I’m only glad that we got here in time,” Victor said. “When Chris reported that there was a den of ogres who captured a traveller, I never could have imagined it would be you.”

Yuuri dropped his eyes, suddenly, inexplicably shy. All those months of writing back and forth, and now he didn’t know how to act face to face. What would Victor expect from him?

“Can you stand?” Victor asked.

Yuuri started to, but was caught by a wave of dizziness and had to sit back down at once. “Not just yet.”

Instead, Victor sat beside him, his armor clanking. “I have to know. How did you end up here? I thought your school was miles away.”

Yuuri hesitated. “It’s kind of hard to explain.”

Victor nodded, looking at him expectantly.

“I ran away from school.”

Victor’s face split into a wide, surprised grin. “You didn’t!”

Embarrassed, Yuuri ducked his head. “I did.”

“Why? You mentioned in your letters that you weren’t happy, but I didn’t think it was enough to force you to leave.”

“It got worse.” Swallowing hard, he decided to tell the truth, or part of it at least. “I couldn’t write to you anymore.”

“I missed writing to you too,” Victor said quietly.

“Besides,” Yuuri said, moving on before his face could turn red. “I’m on my way to a giants’ wedding.”

“Really? Why?”

“Uh . . .” Yuuri hadn’t thought this out. Why _would_ he be going to a giants’ wedding? Thinking of fairies, he said, “Minako will be there. I’ve told you about Minako, right? She works at the onsen.”

“Oh.” Victor sat back a little. “So you’re walking all this way just to see her?”

“She’s practically family,” Yuuri said.

“I see.”

“Victor.” They looked up to see one of the knights approaching them. Yuuri was surprised to realize that he recognized him – it was Victor’s cousin, Christophe, who had stayed at the onsen nearly two years ago.

“Chris, you remember Yuuri, don’t you?” Victor asked, standing up. Finally feeling steady enough, Yuuri clambered to his feet as well.

“It’s an honor,” he said. When he bowed, black dots swam in front of his eyes, but Victor placed a hand on his shoulder to steady him.

“The honor is mine.” Chris had a charming smile and strikingly green eyes. “I’m glad we were able to rescue Victor’s damsel in distress.” While Yuuri blushed, Chris turned to Victor. “We’re ready to move on. The ogres are all taken care of.”

“We’re going to be making a slight detour,” Victor said, “to the giants’ village?”

“What?” Yuuri and Chris demanded at the same time.

“Please, don’t go out of your way on my account,” Yuuri said quickly, mortified. The last thing he wanted was to be an inconvenience.

“Don’t be silly, we’re practically going in that direction anyway,” Victor said cheerfully.

Chris frowned. “No we’re not.”

“It doesn’t matter. It’s only a day’s ride away; it will only set us back a little. Besides, what would Yuuri do if he ran into another den of ogres?”

“Victor, I can’t ask you—”

“Yuuri.” Victor squeezed his shoulder. “You’re not asking, I’m offering. Let us take you to this wedding.”

Yuuri’s mouth was open to protest more, but his words died at Victor’s order. Hesitantly, he nodded.

“We don’t have enough horses,” Chris pointed out.

“Yuuri can ride with me.”

Within a few minutes, the group had piled the ogres’ bodies up, cleaned their weapons, and mounted their horses. Since Yuuri had never ridden a horse before, Victor helped hoist him into the saddle and climbed up behind him, snaking his arms around Yuuri to take the reins. Yuuri felt the heat rising to his face at the feeling of Victor’s armored chest pressed against him and his breath on the back of his neck. Victor kicked his horse forward and the group was on its way.

“So this is what you’ve been doing for the past month?” Yuuri asked after a while. The forest around them was thinning as they neared the road and morning sunlight slanted through the trees. “Hunting down ogres and saving helpless travelers?”

Victor laughed and Yuuri felt it against his back. “Mostly, yes. That’s why I wasn’t able to write to you. I haven’t slept in a proper bed in weeks.”

Knowing what that felt like after his last few days of traveling, Yuuri winced sympathetically. “That doesn’t sound pleasant.”

“It hasn’t been all bad. Killing ogres is a worthy cause, I think. But I missed Makkachin. And you.”

“I missed you too,” Yuuri said truthfully. It was strange, he thought, how he could miss someone’s words on a page as much as the person himself.

“I want to hear all about your school. Was it really as awful as you said it was?”

Yuuri told him about everything that he could. He told him about Phichit, recounting stories that he hadn’t included in his letters. Victor laughed and asked questions, his voice a murmur beside Yuuri’s ear. The day passed slowly as they journeyed east along the road, stopping for meals a few times. At times, Yuuri and Victor fell silent, and sometimes they spoke in soft voices that wouldn’t carry over to the other knights. Always, though, there was the solid press of Victor’s chest against Yuuri’s back and the weight of his arms around his sides. As much as it made him blush, Yuuri liked it. It made him feel safe, and he couldn’t remember the last time he had felt truly safe.

At nightfall, they veered off the road and into the forest to set up camp. While Chris built a fire and Victor and some of the other knights set up tents, Yuuri stood awkwardly by and stroked Victor’s horse’s neck. His legs were so sore from riding all day that he didn’t trust them to walk more than a few paces.

“We’ll reach the giants’ village in the morning,” Victor said, walking toward him and unbuckling his armor. “That’s alright, isn’t it?”

“Yes, that’s when the wedding happens,” Yuuri said. “Thank you again. I owe you—”

Victor waved a hand. “You owe me nothing.”

Yuuri ducked his head a little. “Still, thank you.”

Chris approached them, brushing chips of wood off his hands from the firewood. “You know there aren’t enough tents for him, Victor.”

“Oh, right.” Victor frowned at the line of canvas, one-person tents. “I don’t mind sharing—”

“No,” Yuuri blurted out before Victor could get any farther. He was grateful for the gathering darkness, which helped hide his blush. “Sorry. I mean, I couldn’t possibly – I wouldn’t want to . . .” He shook his head quickly. Sleeping close to Victor, after a day spent practically wrapped in his arms, would be too much. “I don’t need a tent.”

“Okay.” Victor looked mildly amused and Chris seemed to be barely holding back a grin. “I’ll make sure you have enough blankets.”

Before long, the camp was set up and Yuuri was given a pile of blankets to wrap himself in. Victor assured him that the guard set during the night would keep them safe from any ogres, and Yuuri smiled at this – Victor had noticed the worried glances he had been casting at the dark trees around them. When all the other knights settled down in their tents and the guard sat outside the ring of the fire with a drawn sword across his knees, Victor finally bid Yuuri goodnight.

“I’ll be right in this tent,” he said, gesturing to the tent next to which Yuuri had set up his blankets. “If you get cold, don’t be afraid to wake me up, okay?” Victor ran a hand through his fringe and Yuuri noticed something dangling from his wrist.

“You’re wearing the bracelet I made for you,” Yuuri said stupidly. The gift for Victor’s birthday was supposed to be nothing but a trinket, maybe for Victor to smile at and then throw away. He hadn’t actually intended for Victor to wear it.

“I’ve been wearing it ever since you sent it,” Victor said, twisting the bracelet around his wrist. Yuuri could have imagined it, but he thought he saw a slight blush rise to Victor’s cheeks.

Yuuri didn’t know what to say. He managed a murmured “Thank you,” but he wasn’t sure if that was exactly what he wanted to express.

“We should get some rest,” Victor said after a moment’s hesitation. “Goodnight, Yuuri.”

“Goodnight.”

Victor crawled into his tent and Yuuri curled up in his blankets, balling up his jacket as a pillow and lying on his side to save the bruise on the back of his head. He couldn’t make his brain stop whirling. Victor lay only a few feet away from him, cocooned in his own blankets. If Yuuri listened hard, he thought he could hear him breathing. Hiding his smile beneath his blankets, Yuuri squeezed his eyes shut and tried to wrap his head around how his day had gone from so unimaginably horrible to so unbelievably wonderful.

 

* * *

 

He woke up to something tickling against his cheek. Thinking of ogres, Yuuri’s eyes flew open and he sat up, looking around wildly. Nearby, someone started laughing. Yuuri reached for his glasses and saw Victor crouching beside him, holding the leaf that he had used to brush against Yuuri’s cheek. The sun was peeking through the trees and all the other knights were up and about, the tents packed and horses being readied.

“I didn’t want to wake you,” Victor said. He looked unfairly handsome for this early in the morning, his hair slightly tousled and his cheeks pink. “You looked so peaceful lying there. But we’re about to leave.”

Hurriedly, Yuuri ran a hand through his hair in an attempt to make it lie flat. “You could have woken me up.”

“Don’t worry, you won’t hold us up. But you may have to eat on horseback.”

Yuuri quickly discovered that eating on horseback wasn’t as easy as Victor made it sound. The group left shortly after he woke up and Yuuri was handed a few slices of toast with cold sliced ham, which he tried to eat while swaying back and forth in the saddle of Victor’s horse. He was pretty sure more food ended up on the ground than in his mouth. To make matters worse, Victor wasn’t wearing armor today, so every time Yuuri leaned back even slightly he could feel Victor’s chest pressed against his back. He was sure that his face would never stop burning.

It wasn’t a long journey from where they had spent the night to the giants’ village, and before the sun reached its zenith the group broke out of the trees and found themselves near the foot of the mountains that ran along the kingdom’s eastern border. On the other side of a line of fields, Yuuri saw a sprawling village. At first, he thought they were close to it, but he realized after a few moments that it was still a distance away and the buildings were abnormally large. As the horses walked along the road through the fields, Yuuri noticed that everything here was bigger than normal: the wagons and wheelbarrows scattered across the fields, the fences that divided them. His mouth fell open when he saw his first giant as they neared the village. At least ten feet tall, the giant trundled along the road with an enormous sack thrown over his shoulder.

“He’s _huge_ ,” he whispered. Victor’s quiet laugh rumbled against his back.

“What did you expect? They’re giants.”

As the group rode up alongside him, the giant turned to them with a friendly smile. “Good morning, travelers! Here for the wedding?”

Victor raised a hand to wave. “Good morning to you, sir! One of us is, yes. Can you point us in the right direction?”

The giant had a friendly smile. He pointed up the road toward the village. “Go straight ahead to the village center and you can’t miss it.”

“Thank you!” Lowering his voice to speak only to Yuuri, Victor said, “I really should come here more often, the locals are so welcoming.”

They entered the village and rode along the wide street. Yuuri had never felt so small, surrounded by cottages twice as tall as he was used to. He couldn’t help but stare at everything they passed, feeling Victor laugh behind him at his amazement.

Before long, they reached the village center where the wedding was obviously taking place. Already, a large crowd had gathered in the square, which was bedecked in flowers and ribbons, creating an explosion of color. Many of the guests were giants, but Yuuri saw a number of other beings closer to his own height. Some of them were surely humans, but Yuuri guessed that a fair few were fairies, based solely on the faint shimmer that they seemed to carry around with them. He had never seen anything like that around Minako, but she had good reason to hide it, unlike the fairies here.

“Do you see your friend?” Victor asked.

Yuuri pretended the scan the crowd. “No, I don’t. She might not be here yet. She’s notorious for being late.” This wasn’t remotely true – Minako was a stickler for timeliness – but Yuuri didn’t know what else to say. If Victor found out that Minako wasn’t going to be here at all, he didn’t have any excuse for his lie.

“We’ll stay until you find her,” Victor said, and Yuuri’s heart dropped. “I want to make sure you’re not alone.”

“Y-you don’t have to do that,” Yuuri stammered. “I’m sure she’ll be here. You probably have better things to do.”

Chris drew his horse up alongside them. “We’re not staying long, are we, Victor? We should get back on the road as soon as possible.”

Relieved, Yuuri said, “See?”

“Okay.” Victor sounded oddly disappointed. “At least let me look around with you, in case she’s somewhere in the crowd.”

Yuuri supposed that couldn’t hurt. Victor helped him dismount and they left the horse with Chris and the other knights as they ventured into the crowd. Almost immediately, Yuuri was hit with the claustrophobia of it; too many bodies moving around too quickly in a fairly small space. His chest tight, he glanced back at Victor, who smiled and touched his elbow.

“Alright?”

Yuuri took a breath and sidestepped a giant’s legs. “Yeah.”

“What does your friend look like?”

“Um, tall. Long brown hair.”

“Over there?” Victor pointed to a woman who fit that basic description but wasn’t Minako. She had that shimmer about her that Yuuri guessed marked her as a fairy.

“No. Let’s keep going.”

They moved through the crowd, looking for clumps of people their size. Minako was nowhere to be found, obviously, even when they circled the square twice.

“Victor, I don’t think she’s here yet,” Yuuri said.

Craning his neck to look back into the crowd, Victor frowned. “One more time through?”

“You should go,” Yuuri murmured.

Victor’s shoulders slumped a little. “I hate to leave you like this.”

“I’ll be fine,” Yuuri promised.

Sighing, Victor nodded. “You’re right, I’ve kept my knights waiting long enough.” They started back toward where the knights waited on the edge of the crowd. “Will you go back in Hasetsu after this?”

“Yes, that’s the plan.”

“I won’t return to the capital for another month, but after that . . .” Victor looked down at his feet. “May I keep writing to you?”

Yuuri smiled. “I would like that.”

“Good.” Victor exhaled, then laughed a little. “I look forward to it.” They reached the others and Victor stopped, turning to face him. “Until next time, Yuuri Katsuki.”

Expecting him to hold out a hand to shake, Yuuri started to lift his own hand, but instead Victor reached out to pull him into a hug. Taken by surprise, Yuuri froze for a few moments before lifting his arms to hug him back. Victor was warm and solid, his breath huffing into Yuuri’s shoulder.

“Until next time,” Yuuri murmured. Victor pulled back and gave him one last smile before remounting his horse. The group turned away and trotted back down the road the way they had come and Yuuri watched them until they were nearly out of sight.

Finally, he turned back around to face the crowd. The guests were starting to settle down for the ceremony and Yuuri stayed near the fringes, peering inward. He had no idea what to look for, no clue what JJ looked like or if he was even here. There were no chairs, so everyone sat down in the grassy square in disorganized clumps, chatting among themselves. From the front of the square, a giant violinist began to play, and the crowd quieted.

Yuuri couldn’t hear much of the ceremony from the back of the square where he sat. His view was obstructed by the giants sitting in front of him, but he caught glimpses of the two getting married, wearing matching dresses and beaming faces. He had never been to a wedding – giant or otherwise – so he didn’t know if the ceremony was normal across the kingdom or if it was exclusive to the giants. Instead of paying close attention to it, though, he scanned the crowd around him.

Any of the fairies here could be JJ and he might never know. He had no idea how old he was supposed to be, since fairies apparently didn’t age like humans. For all he knew, JJ wasn’t even here and Yuuri had gone through all of this effort for nothing.

The ceremony ended to loud applause from all the guests, and Yuuri slipped around the side of the crowd, hoping to eavesdrop on conversations. Many of the guests were moving toward the back of the square, where Yuuri saw tables of food being set up. Then his eye caught one human-sized person hurrying toward the newlyweds at the front of the square. Noticing a shimmer around the man, Yuuri moved to follow.

As he came within earshot, he heard the fairy speak.

“Allow me to offer my congratulations! My name is JJ.”

Yuuri’s heart leapt. He couldn’t believe his luck. JJ was tall, his shoulders thrown back in a confident posture, and his hair stylishly messy. He looked young, barely older than Yuuri himself, though of course that was impossible. Lingering a few feet back, Yuuri listened in on what he was saying.

“I’ll admit, I have never been to a more beautiful wedding. You two make such a perfect couple!”

The newlyweds smiled at each other and squeezed hands. “Thank you,” one of them said politely. “We’re glad you could come.”

“I wish to offer you the blessing of a fairy,” JJ said.

“That’s really not—”

“No, I insist!” Smiling broadly, JJ waved a hand. “From now on, you two will never leave each other’s side. You will be together until the day you die.”

Yuuri’s breath caught in his throat. The couple exchanged horrified looks. Seeming to mistake their silence for overwhelming gratitude, JJ bowed.

“You’re welcome. Congratulations again!” Beaming again, he spun around. One of the giants had tears welling up in her eyes. For a few moments Yuuri was almost too horrified to move. Then JJ strode past him and he snapped back to attention.

“JJ!” he exclaimed. The fairy turned to him with a wide smile.

“That’s me!”

“You – you just . . .” Yuuri shook his head disbelievingly. “Do you realize what you’ve done? They don’t want that gift!”

JJ rolled his eyes. “Don’t be silly. Everyone wants my gifts!”

Yuuri almost choked. “A-are you serious? You don’t even – how could you . . .?”

Sighing impatiently, his smile fading away, JJ said, “Was there a reason you shouted out my name?”

“You gave me one of your gifts,” Yuuri blurted out. He shook his head, trying to sort out his words. “When I was born. At the onsen in Hasetsu. But it’s not a gift – it’s a curse. You don’t know what this has done to me! I have to do whatever anyone wants, even if it’s horrible. You have to take it away!”

“Ah, I remember you!” JJ said, his smile returning. “The crying baby at the onsen. Gods, you wouldn’t stop crying. It was the only thing I could think of to shut you up. Your fairy guardian wasn’t too pleased with it though – probably upset that I took the spotlight off her.” Yuuri gaped at him, unable to believe his ears. JJ’s voice turned excited. “So it really worked? Your gift of obedience?”

“What? Yes, that’s what I just—”

“Turn around in a circle!”

Yuuri’s feet were moving before he could think of trying to stop himself.

“Jump up and down!”

Yuuri jumped. JJ laughed delightedly and Yuuri’s teeth gritted.

“Stop it!” he shouted. Tears pricked his eyes.

“Fine, stop jumping,” JJ sighed. “So, what, you want me to take it away?”

“Yes!” Yuuri gasped. “Please. It’s a curse and I can’t go on living like this. I want to do the things _I_ want to do.”

“You know, it’s rude to return a gift.” JJ frowned, tapping his chin. “You’re supposed to at least _pretend_ to like it.”

Speechless, Yuuri’s mouth hung open.

“Besides,” JJ sighed, “if you haven’t broken the curse yourself by now, there must be at least a part of you that still wants it.”

“Wants it?” Yuuri repeated, horrified. “Why would I possibly want something like this?”

“If you’re obedient, you don’t have to make your own decisions,” JJ said patiently. “You can slide along in the world and let other people do the hard thinking.” He laughed. “Sometimes I wish I had it that easy!”

Yuuri couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You have to take it away! Please, it’s the only way—”

“Well I know that,” JJ scoffed. “Even that fairy guardian of yours couldn’t take away a gift from another fairy. I’m the only one in the world who could lift it.”

“So you’ll do it?” Yuuri demanded.

“Of course not!” JJ laughed. “Like I said, if you really want it gone, you’ll get rid of it yourself! I wouldn’t take back a gift that I know you secretly like!”

Yuuri’s vision was growing blurry with tears. “You don’t understand – I want this gone more than anything. I _need_ this gone. Please, JJ—”

“Quiet,” JJ sighed, and Yuuri’s lips sealed themselves together. “Your begging is becoming annoying. I already told you I’m not going to lift it, so stop bothering me. Don’t go looking for me again.”

As tears spilled onto Yuuri’s cheeks, JJ turned away and disappeared back into the crowd.

It was all Yuuri could do not to sink to the ground and dissolve into sobs. He pressed a hand over his eyes and tried to cover his tears, his shoulders shaking. Useless, useless. He had blown his chance, and now he would never have another to find JJ and convince him to change his mind. The curse was here to stay.

Somehow, he managed to drag himself to the edge of the square, away from the crowd, where he pressed himself against the side of one of the enormous cottages. Making himself as small as possible, he hid his face in his hands and let the sobs wrack his body, while the celebration went on around him.

By the time Yuuri had used up all of his tears, the party had finally begun to dwindle, with only a few, somewhat intoxicated guests remaining. Yuuri felt empty. He couldn’t think what to do – he couldn’t even think of thinking what to do. He wanted nothing more than to sink into the ground and make all of this disappear.

Instead, he pushed himself to his feet and began walking. Moving helped, a little – it loosened the tightness in his chest and let him breathe easier. His mind still felt strangely blank. He was on the other side of the kingdom from home, and had no idea what he was supposed to do next.

Without realizing it, he had been following a group of people who had also been guests at the wedding. They looked like they might be humans – none of them had the fairy shimmer around them. Yuuri trailed a few paces behind them, barely registering their talk and laughter. At the edge of the village, by the road leading back west, the group all piled into a large coach, handing money to the driver.

Yuuri straightened up. Quickening his pace, he followed them until he reached the coach. “Excuse me!” He caught the attention of the driver. “Is this coach going south?”

“South and west,” the driver said, and Yuuri’s heart leapt.

“I need to get to Hasetsu. It’s on the coast. Will you be going through there?”

The driver scratched his forehead. “Believe so. Do you have money?”

Yuuri dug in his pockets to find the last of the coins he owned. Dumping them into the driver’s hand and praying silently, he asked, “Is that enough?”

“Looks right to me. Get on board.”

“Thank you,” Yuuri breathed, moving past him to step into the coach. He settled down between two other passengers, relief and exhaustion making him slump in his seat.

 

* * *

 

The journey back to Hasetsu took a week. A full week of bumping up and down in a crowded coach, avoiding eye contact with other passengers, and fighting for leg room. A few times, Yuuri was almost tempted to get out and walk the rest of the way himself, however long it took, just to escape the stifling coach.

He spent most of the journey thinking. Somehow, he had completely blown his chance with JJ, destroying any hope he’d had of lifting the curse. After his initial shock, Yuuri had found himself furious. How could JJ be so callous and uncaring, so ignorant? He had completely ignored Yuuri’s pleas and continued acting as if the curse was a gift. Yuuri spent hours with his fists clenched tight in his lap, boiling over with rage.

Part of the anger, he realized, was directed at himself. JJ had said that if Yuuri hadn’t already broken the curse himself, he must not want to. Which meant that it was possible for him to break it on his own. Could JJ be right? Had Yuuri tried hard enough to break it?

Of course he had. His life had been in danger with the ogres, but he still hadn’t been able to walk away when they told him to stay. There couldn’t have been a more pressing need than that moment, and if Yuuri couldn’t break it then, how could he possibly break it any other time?

But there was a part of his brain, a sneaking suspicion, that whispered that JJ was more right than Yuuri wanted to admit. For years growing up, he had wondered if he would be like this even without the curse, if he would be overwhelmed in crowds or afraid to speak to new people. He had convinced himself that it was entirely the curse’s doing, but was that true? Had he used the curse as an excuse, a scapegoat to blame whenever things got to be too much? Perhaps the curse had become his safety blanket, and without it Yuuri would be forced to face a world he didn’t know how to survive in.

He tried to push those thoughts away, but they persisted, and the more he thought about it, the more he suspected it was true. But even if it was, he didn’t know what to do about it. He couldn’t find JJ again, he had no way of breaking the curse himself. He had run away from school and had nowhere to go but home. The onsen was all he had left.

At the end of the long week, Yuuri stepped out of the coach onto Hasetsu’s main road and almost sobbed in relief. The town was exactly as he had left it, small and picturesque and perfect. He could hear the seagulls from the beach.

Walking toward the onsen, Yuuri felt a lightness that he hadn’t felt since he left. This was home, this was where he belonged. He knew now that it was a mistake to leave. Hasetsu meant safety, and that was what he needed.

At the front of the onsen, Yuuri hesitated. It felt strange to knock at his own home, but nobody was expecting him and it would be even stranger to walk in unannounced. He knocked on the door and waited for a few moments before it slid open. Hiroko blinked at him, her mouth falling open.

“Mom . . .” Yuuri started, but his voice broke. Before he could stop himself, a sob ripped through him. He pressed a hand over his eyes as she gathered him into her arms.

“My boy,” she murmured, squeezing him tightly. “Welcome home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No, I didn't have Yuuri singing Somebody To Love like Anne Hathaway in the movie. Sorry.
> 
> So this chapter marks about the halfway point of this fic! I'm kind of amazed that we're here already. This has just been so much fun to write.
> 
> ALSO big news! I just hit 1k followers on [my YOI tumblr](https://wecalleverythinglove.tumblr.com/), which is INCREDIBLE! A huge thank you to everyone who has followed me and been so sweet and amazing! And thank you also to everyone who has left comments. I love, love, love hearing from you all.
> 
> See you next chapter!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has been my favorite so far so write and I just COULDN'T. STOP. That's why you get it so quickly.
> 
> It's worth mentioning again that this fic is more closely based on the book "Ella Enchanted" than the movie. I think the next chapters are where that becomes more obvious.

An hour after returning home, Yuuri was in his bed in the room that he had grown up. After hugs to all of his family members and stumbling explanations why he was home a month earlier than planned, he had been sent up upstairs with a cup of tea and instructions to rest. Yuuri had been relieved, exhaustion weighing down his shoulders, but now he lay wrapped in his blankets and couldn’t stop thinking.

He was finally home, which was what he had wanted for months, but now all he could think was _what next?_ For the past year, he had been so focused on getting out of Hasetsu and finding JJ and breaking the curse, but that chance had been ruined by his own failure. There was still a part of him, no matter how much he tried to push it away, that longed to see more of the world. He had gotten a taste of it, and no matter how much it terrified him, it also fascinated him. He wanted more.

But Minako had been right all those months ago when she told him that there were things he simply couldn’t do because of his curse. Traveling the kingdom was one of them – that much was painfully clear after his run-in with the ogres. Victor’s rescue had been a lucky miracle, but Yuuri couldn’t expect the prince to save him from every danger that he got himself into.

Now he was back home with no way of breaking the curse and stronger desire than ever to see the world. There was nothing he could do – going back to Celestino’s wasn’t an option – and he didn’t have any other reason to leave.

He drifted into an uneasy sleep with these thoughts still swirling around his head.

 

* * *

 

The next morning, the kitchen was unusually quiet when he walked in. He expected it to be a bustle of activity while the kitchen workers prepared breakfast for guests, but only Mari stood over the stove, pushing around food in various saucepans.

“Where is everyone?” Yuuri asked, crossing the kitchen to lean against the counter next to her.

“Mom and Dad are cleaning, Minako’s at the market,” she said, not looking away from her cooking.

“What about all the workers?”

“Just me this morning.”

Yuuri frowned. “Since when do you do all the cooking?”

She swatted him playfully with a dishtowel. “I know how to cook, Yuuri.”

“I know that.” Something wasn’t right. Yuuri looked around; the kitchen seemed bare and larger than normal without its usual commotion. “Mari, that vase that used to be by the front entrance is gone. You know, the one that Dad loves.”

“Oh, he sold that.” Her voice was light. Yuuri laughed.

“Dad would never sell that vase. He used to brag about it to guests until Mom made him stop.”

“I know.” Mari still didn’t look up, pushing a pan of scrambling eggs around a little more aggressively than necessary.

Yuuri was quiet for a few moments, watching her. “Mari, what’s going on? Why is it so quiet around here?”

Her spatula stilled. She sighed a little, her shoulders slumping. “Mom and Dad didn’t want to tell you while you were away. They didn’t want to worry you.”

“Worry me about what?”

She looked up, meeting his eyes. “The onsen is losing money. People aren’t coming to Hasetsu anymore and we don’t get guests like we used to. We had to lay off all the workers so it’s just family now.”

Yuuri felt his stomach drop. “You should’ve told me,” he whispered.

“I wanted to, but they thought you had enough to worry about at that school of yours.”

“Oh no.” Yuuri put his head in his hands. “All that time I was at that school, making them pay for it, and I had no idea—”

“Yuuri, you can’t blame yourself for that. Mom and Dad wanted you to do that, since they thought it would make you happy.”

“But it _didn’t_ make me happy! I was lying in my letters too – it was awful, Mari. If I’d just told the truth, if you’d told me . . . all that money, wasted.”

“Don’t talk like that,” Mari chided. Her command made Yuuri’s next words fly out of his mouth. “None of us could have known. All we can do know is try to help the problem in whatever way we can.”

Yuuri just shook his head.

“We’ll be alright,” she said, but he could hear the hollowness in her words.

“How bad is it?” he asked. “Tell me the truth.”

She chewed on her lower lip. “It’s . . . not good. The inn down the road closed a few months ago. Nobody’s saying it but everything thinks that we’ll be next. I’m not too worried about the rest of the summer – I think we can make enough to scrape by – but once the winter comes, when we have fewer travelers passing through . . .”

“We’ll make it work,” Yuuri said. He straightened his back at his words. “I’ll make sure of it, Mari. I’ll work every day, do whatever it takes.” This would be his new goal. He could push away his wishes of traveling the kingdom; this was more important. “I won’t let the onsen close down.”

She reached across and squeezed his hand. “Thank you, Yuuri. Now, will you help me bring this food to the guests?”

 

* * *

 

After that, Yuuri was caught up in a blur of activity. True to his word, he worked every day, every minute – cleaning, cooking, folding, greeting, dealing with whatever the few guests they had needed. The constant work kept his mind off other things, like his near-crushing disappointment at meeting JJ. (When he told Minako about this, she had ranted for an hour about how this was why fairies got a bad name, and how JJ was a disgrace to the rest of them, and how he didn’t deserve to have magical abilities. That had made Yuuri feel fractionally better.)

He asked his parents to show him their bookkeeping of the onsen’s money. For the first time, he was grateful for everything that his arithmetic teacher at Celestino’s School taught him as he organized their earnings and spending into clear groups and columns, figuring out exactly how much they needed to make and spend to stay afloat. Barring any unforeseen disasters, he thought they would be able to make it through the next few months.

The weeks went by in a daze. Yuuri worked so hard he couldn’t think. He took a second job at the shoe store that Yuuko and Takeshi owned together, giving all the money he earned there to his parents for the onsen. Any time that he wasn’t working, he was sleeping. He collapsed in his bed every night, weary to his bones but knowing that he would have to wake the next morning at sunrise to face the same thing all over again.

Three weeks after his return to Hasetsu, a letter addressed to him arrived at the onsen. Seeing the familiar handwriting on the envelope, Yuuri paused for the first time in what felt like days. He had nearly forgotten, but Victor must have just gotten back to the capital. Apparently he had written to Yuuri straight away. His heart pounding, Yuuri retreated into the pantry to tear the envelope open.

_Dear Yuuri,_

_I made it back to the capital in one piece, to nobody’s surprise more than my own. What a relief to sleep in a bed again! I was afraid that Makkachin would forget about me by the time I got back, but he jumped into my arms as soon as I set foot in the palace. My cousin Yurio took good care of him, no matter how much he grumbled about it._

_It feels good to be writing to you again. I missed this. Surely it was some kind of serendipity that we met in the middle of the forest a few weeks ago, but already I had begun missing you. I wish we could have spent more time together. We seem to only catch snatches of each other’s lives and I wish we could have so much more than that._

_I assume you made it home safely. How is your family? How is Hasetsu? I hope you will place a flower on your dog’s grave in my honor. Do you plan to stay there for now? As I’m sure you can tell, I’m desperate for news of your life._

The letter went on for a while, recounting a funny story involving Chris trying to charm an ogre, and Yuuri couldn’t wipe the smile off his face. Victor’s words felt familiar, comforting. He had nearly forgotten how happy these letters made him.

He hadn’t been to Vicchan’s grave since he got back, but he immediately vowed to do it tomorrow, to bring a flower like Victor had asked. Tucking the letter into his pocket, Yuuri decided to write back as soon as he got the chance.

The chance didn’t come for another two days, but when Yuuri finally sat down at his desk with a blank sheet of paper, the words he wanted to say to Victor rolled off his pen easily. He avoided mentioning his family’s financial troubles, not wishing to trouble Victor with that information, but he responded to his questions and told a story about a guest recently who gorged himself on Hiroko’s famous pork cutlet bowls. (Although he left out the detail that he had to mop up the man’s vomit a half hour later when his stomach rejected the rich food. Again, Victor didn’t need to know.) He sent the letter the next morning.

From then on, that became his routine. Yuuri worked, and every few days he received a brief respite in the form of a letter from Victor. He wrote back when he had the time, trying not to let his exhaustion show in his writing, and then spent the next days wishing for the reply.

The summer raced past. Business was decent – summertime was always the most popular time of year, though this year had dropped off noticeably from previous summers. Yuuri saved as much money as they could spare, knowing that they would desperately need it during the winter when fewer guests came. He still wasn’t sure if they would be able to keep the onsen open through the colder months. He tried not to think about what would happen if they couldn’t.

The letters from Victor came and went. Victor always wanted to know more, but Yuuri didn’t have much to tell him besides stories about the odd guests they occasionally got. His life was centered on work at the moment; he couldn’t concentrate on anything else.

A few times, Victor seemed frustrated in his letters, though Yuuri didn’t think the frustration was aimed at him. Instead, it seemed directed towards others: Victor’s father, the other royals, the foreign guests they received, the city at large. Yuuri got the sense that he was restless. He was spending his summer attending to his duties, none of which he seemed to enjoy. _“My father is convinced that he’s going to die any day and I’m going to have to take over as king,”_ he wrote in one letter. _“Sometimes I wish he’d get it over with so I didn’t have to hear his endless pestering.”_ A part of Yuuri felt like he shouldn’t be reading this, that it was blasphemy of some sort, but he couldn’t control what Victor wrote. He expressed sympathy in his replies and wondered if there wasn’t somebody else closer to Victor that he could confide all this to. Victor certainly didn’t seem to think so. _“Sometimes I think I’m more honest with you than I am with myself,”_ he wrote once, which made a warmth that Yuuri didn’t fully understand bloom in his chest.

At first, Yuuri didn’t tell any of his family about the letters, but with the amount of them that came every week it was impossible to hide. When Mari questioned him about it and he admitted that he was writing to the prince, her scream almost made him drop the tray of food that he was carrying.

“You’ve been writing to the _prince_ for _weeks_ and you haven’t _told_ me?” she demanded, grabbing his shoulders.

“W-we’ve been writing since I left for school,” Yuuri stammered, his face burning. Mari screamed again and demanded that he tell her everything.

After that, it became common knowledge within the onsen that Yuuri was friends with the prince. Mari and Minako liked to tease him when they caught him smiling at a letter, just as Phichit had at school, and his parents sometimes mentioned it offhandedly to guests. (They always smiled, assuming that it was a joke of some kind.) Yuuri was relieved, though, that none of them made it into too big of a deal; he didn’t want to feel even worse about taking time away from working to read and write letters.

He had also been writing back and forth with Phichit from time to time. The school year over now, Phichit was back in his home village. According to him, the entire school had been shocked after Yuuri’s disappearance, and though many of them had wanted to hear what Phichit knew, he had feigned ignorance. Unlike Yuuri, he was going back to Celestino’s School in the fall, even though he said it wouldn’t be the same without Yuuri there.

Yuuri missed him terribly. There were no boys his age in Hasetsu that he could talk to as easily as Phichit, and he missed their late-night conversations and jokes about the silliest of things. Everyone at the onsen was always busy, and Yuuko and Takeshi were wrapped up in their own married world. Phichit was the best friend Yuuri had ever had and Yuuri missed the easy simplicity of their friendship.

Victor was different. Yuuri didn’t know exactly how to define it, but his friendship with Phichit was vastly different from his friendship with Victor.

Autumn began to roll around and Yuuri felt the exhaustion from the past few months settling deep into his bones. The summer travelers had begun to taper off, leaving them with fewer guests and fewer sources of income. Dread pooled in Yuuri’s stomach when he thought of the months to come, the cold and the quiet as the onsen gradually ran out of money. They began tightening their belts, saving more food for the guests and less for themselves. Minako had started performing small household spells that she had previously refused to do, like flavoring foods with magic when they couldn’t afford spices, and enchanted sponges to scrub the tubs by themselves. A frown lingered on her face whenever she had to do this; Yuuri knew that it was against her philosophy. She believed that fairies should interfere with magic in humans’ lives as little as possible.

One night, he slumped down in the chair by his desk to reply to Victor’s most recent letter. As his pen hovered over the blank paper, about to write that he was fine and the onsen was doing well, his hand shook. He had only eaten once that day, despite the hours he had spent on his feet working. His stomach was so knotted in on itself that he could barely think. A small, plain bowl of rice waited for him beside his bed, but he wanted to save it until right before he slept because it had to hold him over until the next day’s dinner.

He didn’t want to lie to Victor anymore. The onsen was failing and he couldn’t keep hiding it. Before long he might not even have a house for Victor to send his letters, so he might as well know the reason why.

_Dear Victor,_

_In my last letters, I’ve been saying that I’m doing well and that the onsen is too, but I haven’t been entirely truthful._

He told him everything – about how Hasetsu was slowly beginning to fade off the map as fewer travelers passed through, about how the onsen probably wouldn’t last through the winter. His chest was tight but he felt an odd sense of release, letting the words flow out honestly.

_I know that I shouldn’t complain, least of all to you, but I wanted you to know. If I ever have to stop writing, that will be the reason why. I’m sorry to burden you with all of this._

_Yours,_

_Yuuri_

Before he could talk himself out of it, he folded the letter and slid it into an envelope. Then he turned toward his bowl of rice with a sigh.

He expected a response from Victor within a few days, as was normal, but two days passed with no word and he began to worry. It had been a relief to tell Victor the truth, but perhaps Victor had taken it in a different way. He must get constant complaints from subjects all over the kingdom about their financial situations, and now Yuuri was just another of their many voices. Perhaps Victor had thought Yuuri was different from the rest of them, but that letter had proved that he wasn’t. Fear gripped Yuuri’s lungs at that thought. He wished he could fly across the kingdom and snatch the letter back.

The days went by and no reply came. Yuuri began to despair. So Victor had finally given up on him. Perhaps he was been growing tired of him for a while, putting up with all of his inane prattle about life at the onsen, but the complaints had been the last straw. Yuuri never should have sent that letter. Now he had driven away one of the only bright spots he had left in his life.

By the time a week passed, he had begun to recognize that he simply wasn’t going to hear from Victor ever again. The thought it, that morning as he lay in bed, made it nearly impossible to gather the strength to get up. He squeezed his eyes shut and a single tear snuck out of his eyes and dripped onto his pillow.

When he finally pulled himself out of bed and went downstairs, wiping his eyes discreetly, he was immediately accosted by Mari. “Yuuri, we have new guests! I need your help!”

“Guests?” he echoed. “Plural?”

“Three of them!” she exclaimed, beaming. Yuuri couldn’t remember the last time he had seen her smiling like this. “We’re almost out of eggs – go to the market and buy more. Oh, and onions! And ham, if they have any!”

She shoved a basket into his hands and shooed him through the door.

Yuuri hurried toward the market at the center of town, finding the items that Mari had named. On the way back, though, he noticed a crowd gathered around the board at the town center. Curious, he joined them, listening in on the excited voices around him.

“It’s such short notice!” one woman exclaimed. “How are we supposed to prepare properly?”

“So much to do before then,” her friend agreed.

“This could save some of the businesses in town,” a man observed. Wanting to know what they were talking about, Yuuri pushed his way through the crowd until he could see the notice posted on the board.

_ATTENTION:_

_The King will be holding his annual Autumn Festival_

_in Hasetsu in ONE WEEK._

_Prepare accordingly._

Yuuri almost stopped breathing. The autumn festival was one of the biggest kingdom-wide celebrations of the year. The official royal festival was nearly always held in the capital, sometimes in one of the towns nearby, though almost every other city in the kingdom held their own smaller version of it. Hasetsu usually had a dance at the town center and some kind of feast. It was an exciting event, though nowhere near as extravagant as he heard the king’s festival was. The royal festival drew in travelers from all over the kingdom, travelers who would need rooms to stay in, hot springs to soak in . . .

Yuuri nearly dropped his basket in his rush to get back to the onsen. He burst through the door and ran into the kitchen, dropping the basket onto the counter.

“Mari!” he exclaimed. “Did you hear? The autumn festival—”

“I know!” she squealed, grabbing his hands. “Minako just told me!”

“This could save us,” he gasped. His eyes filled with tears at the thought. They weren’t going to starve or spend the winter on the street. He couldn’t wipe the smile off his face.

“Yuuri, we’re going to make it through the year.” From what he could tell, Mari had tears in her eyes as well. “We’re going to be okay.”

He squeezed her into a hug, tears spilling onto his cheeks.

“Oh!” she said, drawing back. “I almost forgot. There’s a letter for you.” She gestured to the envelope on the counter.

Yuuri’s heart leapt when he saw the familiar looping handwriting. Breathlessly, he tore it open.

_Yuuri,_

_This is going to be brief – I have a lot to do in the next week and not much time to do it._

_You may have already heard, but my father is going to be holding our autumn festival in Hasetsu next week. We usually don’t have it outside of the capital, but I convinced him that it would help promote unity within the kingdom. When I got your last letter, I wanted to do something to help and this was the only thing I could think of. I know it’s not much, but the festival could attract more guests to your family’s onsen._

_And, though this is a considerably more selfish reason, I will be able to see you again._

_Until then, I count down the hours._

_Victor_

Yuuri could hardly read the words through his tears. Reaching under his glasses, he tried to wipe them away, but they kept coming.

“Was it the prince?” Mari asked.

“How . . .” Yuuri choked out. Pressing a hand over his eyes, he shook his head. “Why would he do that? I told him about our situation, but he couldn’t have done it for _us_ , he couldn’t—”

“He did it for _you_ ,” Mari said gently.

Yuuri just shook his head. He couldn’t fathom it.

“Now wipe up those tears and help me cut these onions. I bet they’ll stop your crying.”

Yuuri choked a laugh and took the knife she handed him.

 

* * *

 

The week flew by. They had new guests every day, asking for rooms, and before Yuuri knew it all their available rooms were taken. Mari temporarily moved into Minako’s room and Yuuri found a spot on the pantry floor to curl up with his blankets, freeing up two more rooms. They raised prices, though the new guests hardly seemed to care. The amount of work multiplied and they had to hire temporary extra help just to keep up with all of it. Between all of the excitement, Yuuri barely had time to think, let alone write back to Victor to express his gratitude. Not that he knew how he could begin to thank him. Words didn’t seem like enough to show the depths of his thanks.

The festival would be held on the streets of Hasetsu, with vendors and musicians and artists crowding for space. Days in advance, they began setting up. Pumpkins and hay bales decorated every street corner, garlands of autumn leaves hanging from every rooftop. The royals, of course, wouldn’t be in the streets – there was a separate party held in the town center for all of the most important guests. Knowing that he wouldn’t be able to gain admittance to that party, Yuuri managed to get onto the wait staff. With luck, he would be able to see Victor, even if they couldn’t spend much time together.

Before he knew it, the day of the festival arrived. Yuuri spent the morning working at the onsen, doing everything he could to prepare for the fact that he wouldn’t be there to help out that evening. Hiroko had assured him that it was fine, since they had hired extra workers, but Yuuri couldn’t help but worry. He felt guilty that he would be off enjoying the party, even as a part of the staff, while his family was stuck back at the onsen.

But when the evening rolled around, Yuuri went to the town center and entered through the back door with the rest of the workers. He was practically vibrating with excitement. Victor was here somewhere – he would see him within a few hours. The thought of it made it nearly impossible to stand still.

As the party began, Yuuri was given a plate of appetizers and told to wander through the crowd, offering them to partygoers and staying out of everyone’s way. He stepped into the large chamber, crowded with all the most important people in the kingdom, and was washed over with the sounds of talk and laughter and pleasant music.

For a few heartbeats, he was frozen in the doorway. He hadn’t thought this through; his only focus had been on seeing Victor and he had nearly forgotten that he would be in a crowded room with people who wouldn’t hesitate to throw around orders at him. His last experience in a large crowd, at the giants’ wedding, had been a far from pleasant experience, and now he couldn’t stop replaying it over in his mind.

Then another worker jostled him from behind and told him to get out of the doorway. Yuuri scuttled to the side of the wall, where he clenched his free hand and forced himself to take deep breaths. _I can do this_ , he told himself resolutely. _For Victor._ Swallowing hard to alleviate the dryness in his throat, he stepped forward and began to mingle with the crowd.

It was surprisingly easy to avoid attention. His white shirt and black tie marked him as staff, so people’s eyes slid over him as if he wasn’t there. He felt invisible, and he liked it. A few barked orders to him, but they were simple things like “Bring that tray over here” or “Take my empty champagne glass.” Yuuri kept himself breathing and smiling, staying calmer than he thought he was capable of in a crowd this size.

Although he kept his eye out for any flash of silver hair, he didn’t see Victor anywhere. He tried not to let this bother him – he was surely around here somewhere. (He didn’t see the king either, although if he was honest he didn’t know exactly what the king looked like. He expected one would recognize the king when one saw him, almost as a matter of principle.)

When his tray was empty, Yuuri knew he was supposed to go back downstairs to the kitchen to get a new one. Instead, he lingered near the edge of the crowd, searching for that familiar face. He stood on his toes, craning his neck. He was sure he had walked through the entire crowd, but Victor hadn’t been anywhere.

Then a hand grabbed onto his, tugging him away from the crowd. Swallowing his exclamation, Yuuri spun around and found himself face to face with the prince.

Victor wore a perfectly tailored black suit and a wide grin. Two flutes of champagne dangled from the hand that wasn’t holding Yuuri’s.

“Victor, wha—” Yuuri started, but Victor cut him off with a wink.

“Come with me,” he whispered. Yuuri had no choice but to follow him out of the chamber and into one of the empty side hallways. Only there did Victor let go of his hand and offer him one of the champagne flutes, which Yuuri took tentatively. Victor tapped the edge of his own against it. “It’s good to see you.”

Yuuri’s mind was whirling. Without thinking, he said, “We’re old enough that we don’t have to sneak off with champagne like kids.”

Victor shrugged. “It’s more fun this way.”

Yuuri shook his head. His eyes met Victor’s steadily and for a few heartbeats he couldn’t believe that he was real. Then the air huffed out of his lungs shakily and he reached up to pull Victor into a hug, not caring that it wasn’t the proper thing to do.

“I don’t know how to thank you,” he whispered into the collar of Victor’s suit. “What you did . . .”

“You don’t need to thank me,” Victor murmured.

“You saved us. Maybe you don’t realize it, but you saved the whole town.” He almost laughed. “This is the second time you’ve rescued me.” Third, if he counted their meeting in the capital city. Yuuri doubted he would ever be done repaying Victor.

“Well, I can’t claim that I did it entirely because of your town.” Victor drew back and sipped his champagne, his eyes sparkling. “I had somewhat more selfish motivations. I did want to see you again.”

Yuuri smiled. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t think I can ever thank you enough.”

“You’re welcome, then.” Victor looked him over. “You look nice.” Yuuri snorted; his ill-fitting formal white shirt was nowhere near as flattering at Victor’s perfect suit. “I like your hair like this.”

“Oh . . . thank you.” Yuuri had combed his hair back and taken off his glasses, wanting to look a little more professional. He had worried he looked ridiculous. “You look nice too . . . as usual.” He blushed as soon as the words were out of his mouth. “Anyways, I should get back to work.”

“Don’t go!” Victor insisted, and Yuuri’s feet immediately stopped moving. “Stay with me. It’ll be more fun, I promise.”

“Victor, I’m being paid to work here,” Yuuri laughed.

“So if anyone finds us, I’ll say you’re helping me with something. That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? To help us useless royals?”

Yuuri rolled his eyes but gave in. Grinning, Victor grabbed his hand again and pulled him down the hallway.

“Where are we going?” Yuuri asked, but Victor just threw a smile at him over his shoulder and said nothing. They ran up the stairs that led to the upper level where all the important guests were staying. Yuuri was sure that he wasn’t allowed up here, but he couldn’t protest.

“There’s a place where we can look down and spy on everybody,” Victor said. He led the way to one of the upper hallways, where a strip of window looked through the wall and into the chamber below. Yuuri could hear the faint sounds of music and voices. Peering through the window, he sighed at the sight of all the royals and nobles dressed in their finest clothes, surrounded by the splendor of the chamber’s lavish decorations.

“Everyone looks beautiful,” he murmured.

“It’s certainly something to look at,” Victor said dryly. “Hey, look, there’s Yurio! Doesn’t he look mad?”

Yuuri followed Victor’s pointed finger to find his younger cousin, sandwiched between a redheaded woman and the noble she was talking to. Yurio was scowling fiercely and glancing around as if looking for an escape, but the woman had his arm held firmly in her grasp.

“Who’s he with?”

“Another cousin, Mila. She’s in charge of making sure he doesn’t run away tonight. My father wanted me to look after him, but I passed it off on her so I could see you instead.”

Yuuri’s stomach fluttered a little and he smiled without looking away from the crowd below. “Oh look, there’s Chris!” His yellow hair making him stand out even from a distance, Chris was talking to the musicians. “How many cousins do you have?”

“Too many,” Victor laughed. “There’s my father, too, do you see him?”

“Where?” Yuuri looked where Victor was pointing and spotted a man with a broad face and dark grey hair who looked nothing like Victor. “He’s not even wearing a crown!”

“Everyone here knows what the king looks like.”

“I didn’t!” Yuuri was struck with the sudden worry that he had served something to the king earlier without realizing it and not shown the proper respect. “King Yakov. I’ve never seen him before.”

“Well, there he is,” Victor sighed. “The man who won’t leave me alone for a day in my life.”

“You shouldn’t—” Yuuri began, only to realize that he had been about to tell the prince off for complaining about his own father. Shaking his head, he looked down.

“I know,” Victor said, misunderstanding what Yuuri had begun to say. “He’s only trying to make me into the best king I can be.”

Yuuri said nothing. Sometimes he managed to forget who Victor was, but here it was in front of him, plain as day. Victor was going to be the _king_ someday. All of those people would know his name and his face; they would listen to him speak and maybe shake his hand and then remember it for the rest of their lives. He belonged down there, among all the beauty and royalty, not up here with a servant. His stomach churning, Yuuri turned away from the window and pressed his back against the wall.

“What’s the matter?” Victor asked.

“Nothing,” Yuuri lied. He didn’t want to explain. It would only remind Victor of who Yuuri was and make him realize that whatever was between them wasn’t going to last much longer.

Victor took Yuuri’s chin with his fingers and turned his face toward him, narrowing his eyes. “Yu-uri,” he said, drawing the name out long. Yuuri’s breath caught.

“Let’s just . . .” He dropped his eyes. “Let’s do something, just the two of us.” Maybe for tonight, he could pretend that this would last. He wanted Victor by his side for as long as he could have him, but their time was short so he wanted to take advantage of it while he still could. “Just you and me.”

Victor smiled wide and released Yuuri’s chin. He tapped his champagne flute against Yuuri’s again. “Just you and me,” he echoed, then downed the champagne into his mouth. Yuuri did the same and the alcohol burned in his throat, almost making him choke. Victor laughed at the look on his face. They left their empty glasses on the floor and Victor led the way away from the window.

Yuuri followed him up another flight of stairs, relieved that at least Victor seemed to know where he was going. The carpeted steps gave away to bare wood as they climbed higher, the stairwell growing narrower, until they stepped into a tight room with dim evening sunlight streaming through slats of wood. Yuuri laughed. “We’re in the clock tower!” Above them he could see whirling gears and hear rhythmic ticking. Moving to the wall, he peered through the wood and saw the festival in full swing below them, an explosion of autumn orange and red and gold.

“You can see the ocean from this side,” Victor said, and they moved to the other side of the tower to peer out over the water. The setting sun painted the sea with a fiery glow.

“How did you discover this?” Yuuri asked.

Victor shrugged. “I always like to explore the places I’m staying and find the spots where I can get away from everyone.”

That sounded a little lonely to Yuuri, but he didn’t mention it, instead sitting down on one of the empty crates on the floor. Victor sat on one near him, less than an arm’s length away, but angled so they weren’t directly face-to-face. Yuuri stared down at his shoes, noticing a scuff on the toe that he hadn’t seen before. All those months of writing back and forth and wishing to see Victor in person, and now he didn’t know what to say.

“I’m glad you told me the truth about your family’s onsen,” Victor said at last. He was looking down at his hands, his fringe falling in front of his eyes. “I don’t want you to think you have to hide things from me.”

“I’m glad I told you too,” Yuuri said wryly, “if this is what I get for it.”

Victor snorted.

“I mean it,” Yuuri said, the teasing tone falling out of his voice. “I wish I had some way of showing you how much this means to me.”

“You don’t have to—”

“I know,” Yuuri said. “All I’m saying is, I don’t think you can understand how important this to me, and to everyone in Hasetsu.”

“Because I’m the prince, and I’ve gotten everything I want in life?” Victor’s voice was oddly flat.

“No, I just mean . . .” Yuuri shook his head, frustrated. “Thank you. From all of Hasetsu.”

Victor was quiet for a few seconds. “I didn’t do it for them, I did it for you.”

Yuuri’s throat felt dry. “Then thank you . . . from me.”

When Victor finally looked up, Yuuri was relieved to see a smile on his face. “So what else have you been keeping from me in your letters? You told me everything was fine when it wasn’t, so there has to be more that you left out.”

So Yuuri told him everything that he had glossed over in writing for the past months. It was a relief to speak it all out loud, to have Victor listen as he complained about customers who insisted their prices were too high and refused to pay, or tell him about the pinching hunger of skipping meals. Of course, he refrained from mentioning the biggest secret, his curse. He couldn’t have if he wanted to – and he wanted to, no matter how foolish he knew it was.

In turn, Victor told him the stories that he hadn’t bothered writing about, because they were too long or wouldn’t translate well into writing. As he told him a funny story about Yurio trying to take Makkachin on a walk, Yuuri found himself nearly doubled over, clutching his stomach with laughter. When he looked up, Victor’s eyes were shining.

By the time they both stopped talking, the sun had set fully and the clock tower was shadowy. Yuuri leaned back, listening to the clicking gears above their heads. Far below them, he could hear music from the party.

“Ah, they’ve started the dancing,” Victor said. “Listen, it’s a waltz.”

Yuuri listened for another few moments, a strange boldness growing inside him. Perhaps it was the champagne that bubbled in his blood lending him courage, but he felt almost no nervousness when he said, “Dance with me.”

“What?”

Yuuri was glad that Victor couldn’t see his blush through the darkness. “You mentioned once that all of your instructors were incompetent and you wished I could teach you to dance. Well, now’s your chance.”

Victor was quiet for a few heartbeats and Yuuri was sure he was going to refuse. Then, in a soft voice, he said, “It would be my honor.”

They stood up and faced each other. In the dim light, Yuuri could only see Victor’s outline, his pale hair, and the barest glint of his eyes. He reached out and took one of his hands, placing the other on Victor’s waist and taking the lead. Victor felt unbelievably warm and solid and real. He wasn’t words on a page anymore; he was a person, holding Yuuri close, his breath warm against Yuuri’s cheek.

They stepped together, following the simple one-two-three rhythm of the waltz. The music was faint, but Victor seemed to recognize the song, humming it quietly in Yuuri’s ear as they moved. The space was small and they had to keep stepping around the stairwell, but nonetheless they danced easily, gracefully, moving together and not once stepping out of beat.

“You lied to me.” Yuuri huffed a breathless laugh. “You’re an excellent dancer.”

Victor had a smile in his voice. “You lied to me as well. You’re a _phenomenal_ dancer.”

“No I’m not,” Yuuri said self-consciously.

“You are. I’ve never danced with anyone better.”

“Neither have I.”

They kept dancing, and when Yuuri stumbled over the corner of a crate, Victor caught him with a laugh. The song ended but Yuuri didn’t move away from Victor’s arms. He looked up; their faces were inches apart. The room was silent and Yuuri couldn’t breathe.

“You never fail to surprise me, Yuuri Katsuki,” Victor whispered.

Yuuri stared up at him, unable or perhaps unwilling to move.

“Are you alright?” Victor asked, his eyebrows pinching together.

Yuuri couldn’t think. “I’m a little hungry,” he breathed.

“Of course.” Victor stepped away but didn’t let go of his hands. “When was the last time you ate? No, don’t answer that, it’ll make me feel terrible. Come on, let’s find some food.”

Yuuri’s head was still spinning but he let Victor pull him back down the stairs. He knew that his face was probably burning red. They descended the staircase all the way down, past the main level where dancing was still happening, to the lower level with the kitchens. Victor stopped in the hallway outside the kitchen.

“Now, go in there and ask for two meat pies. I had them earlier, they’re delicious. Oh, and two glasses of champagne.”

Yuuri hesitated, even though he could already feel the curse pulling at him. “I can’t just go in there and ask for that!”

“You do work there, don’t you?” Victor’s eyes twinkled mischievously. “Tell them the prince wants them. He wants to entertain a special guest. That’s not a lie.”

Barely holding back his smile, Yuuri stepped into the kitchen, which was a bustle of activity. Pushing past the other workers, he found the head chef and cleared his throat.

“The prince wants two meat pies and two glasses of champagne,” he reported. “He’s entertaining a special guest.”

The chef sighed. “He is, is he? Meat pies are over there. Put them over the oven for a few minutes to warm them up. Champagne’s on the far counter.”

Yuuri nodded, moving to follow his instructions. When the pies were warm, he piled them onto a tray, along with the glasses of champagne, then as an afterthought grabbed two forks. When he brought the tray back to the hallway where Victor waited, he was met with a delighted grin.

They went back up the stairs and sat in the hallway alongside the main chamber, eating their pies and sipping their champagne and listening to the party happening close by. As Yuuri’s stomach began to feel more full than it had in weeks, and his head sparkled with champagne, he thought that he never wanted the night to end.

They were both finishing their pies when Yurio appeared from the chamber. Spotting them, his face arranged into its customary scowl. “There you are,” he snapped at Victor. “Everyone’s been looking for you all night. Have you been stuffing your face with the servants?”

Victor sat up and Yuuri did the same, wondering if he should stand to bow. “Yurio, so pleasant as always,” Victor said cheerfully. “You remember Yuuri, don’t you?”

“Katsudon boy?” Yurio narrowed his eyes at Yuuri. “You won’t let me forget about him.”

“I should make sure my father isn’t too angry,” Victor sighed, standing up and helping Yuuri to his feet as well. “Yuuri, don’t move from this spot. I’ll be back soon.”

Immediately, Yuuri’s feet planted in place. Victor disappeared into the main hall but Yurio stayed, watching Yuuri with a strange look on his face. Still unsure of how he was supposed to act, Yuuri made a belated, awkward bow. “It’s an honor to meet you again.”

“Is that the only thing you know how to say?” Yurio snarled.

“I-I’m sorry.”

“I didn’t say you had to apologize.”

Yuuri opened his mouth to apologize again, only to shut it, confused.

“Honestly, I don’t see why Victor is interested in you,” Yurio muttered, crossing his arms and looking away. “You’re just a small-town nobody.”

His words were true, but that didn’t stop them from stinging. Yuuri looked down to hide how much they affected him. As he did, though, that defiant spark flared up. Yurio may be a royal, but he was also a child, and he knew nothing about Yuuri.

“Maybe you should ask him yourself,” Yuuri said, not daring to look up to meet Yurio’s eyes. “I didn’t force him to come here so clearly he chose it for himself. I guess that means there’s something about me that he likes.”

Even if he suspected that wasn’t true, it felt good to say out loud. Yuuri’s eyes flicked up to see Yurio’s face grow stormy, but to his relief Victor chose that moment to reappear from the main chamber.

“No damage done!” he reported happily. “Yurio, go away, you’re making Yuuri look uncomfortable.”

Glowering at them both, Yurio stomped off. Victor returned to Yuuri, and although he was smiling again, Yuuri thought he could see something behind the smile, something not quite right. Part of him wanted to ask about it, but he didn’t want to infringe on Victor’s privacy.

“What now?” Victor asked. “The party’s almost over but it’s not midnight yet and we don’t have to stop.”

“Actually, I think I should go back to the onsen,” Yuuri said regretfully. “I have responsibilities that I need to return to, and I’m guessing you do too.”

Victor’s shoulders slumped marginally. “Who cares about responsibilities? I’d much rather be with you.”

A smile tugged at Yuuri’s lips. “I know. Me too.”

For a few seconds, Victor held his gaze. Then he sighed and stepped away, offering Yuuri his arm. “Come on, I’ll walk you home.”

Taking his arm, Yuuri tried not to let his regret show. He had known from the beginning that his time with Victor was limited, but now that it was coming to an end he wished he could stretch it out forever. Now he would go back to being a nobody as Yurio had said, an onsen worker who would never be noticed by somebody like the prince.

The streets had begun to clear out as midnight approached and festivalgoers headed home for the night. Yuuri knew that there would be plenty of work to do at the onsen and his muscles already ached at the thought of it, of going back to day after day of hard work with this night playing over and over in his mind. He knew this would be something he would never forget, but he wished he didn’t have to look back. He wished he could look forward to nights like this always.

Near the onsen, Victor slowed. “I’ll see you again before I go back home,” he promised.

“Good.” Yuuri sighed, looking down at his feet. “Thank you, Victor. For everything. This was better than anything I could have wished for, and I hope it was worth it for you.”

Victor let out a surprised laugh. “Of course it was. You made it worth it.”

Yuuri shrugged doubtfully, sure that Victor was saying it to be polite.

“I would do it again in a heartbeat,” Victor said, his voice softening. “Yuuri . . . you know, you’re amazing.”

“Don’t say that.” Yuuri’s voice came out sharper than he intended. Refusing to look up at Victor, he took a shaky breath. “Don’t say that unless you mean it.”

“I do.” Gently, Victor took ahold of Yuuri’s hands. He tried not to let them tremble. “You are amazing.”

“How could you . . .” Yuuri closed his eyes and shook his head as all of the nagging doubts from the evening, from the last year, rose up and spilled over. “How could you possibly think that? You’re . . . you.”

“You mean I’m the prince.” Victor’s voice was flat.

“Yes. No . . . I mean.” Yuuri wished he knew how to explain himself better. “You’re Victor.” _You’re kind and funny and beautiful and you listen to me in a way that no one else does and I think you understand me better than anyone and you’re the best person I’ve ever met._

“And you’re Yuuri,” Victor said simply.

Yuuri shook his head. “That’s not . . .” He trailed off. That wasn’t enough. Yuuri was nobody; Victor was everything.

“That’s enough,” Victor said, as if reading his mind. Yuuri looked up and felt his heart pinch.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Victor murmured. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Yuuri’s cheek, then turned and walked away before he could see the way that Yuuri’s face flamed bright red. For a few moments, Yuuri was frozen. Then, slowly, he lifted his fingers to the spot that Victor’s lips had touched as a smile crept onto his face.

“Goodnight,” he whispered, even though by now Victor was too far away to hear him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unfortunately life is getting crazy so it might be a little bit of a wait until the next chapter. But I'll do my best! Also, next chapter is pretty significant plot-wise so I want to spend extra time on it.
> 
> Thank you again to everyone who has read and left comments! You guys honestly make this all worth it. I can never get enough of hearing your thoughts and reactions.
> 
> As always, find me on tumblr [here](http://wecalleverythinglove.tumblr.com/)! Feel free to come talk to me about anything!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yikes, sorry for the wait. A combination of finals, family stuff, and the fact that this was a tough chapter to write made this take a bit longer than I hoped it would.  
> Anyways, here it is.

“Yuuri! Wake up!”

The sound of Mari’s voice and her fist pounding on the pantry door dragged Yuuri out of sleep. He sat up blearily. His back was sore, as it always was when he had to sleep on the stone floor of the pantry. Mari threw the door open and leaned inside.

“You’d better get up quickly,” she said. “There’s someone here to see you.”

“What? Who is it?” Yuuri mumbled, his brain still half asleep.

Mari’s mouth twisted upward into a smirk. “The prince.”

“ _What?”_ Immediately wide awake, Yuuri pushed his blankets aside and leapt to his feet. He threw on the first pair of trousers he found and ran a hand franticly through his messy hair in a fruitless attempt to make it behave. Mari snickered as he hurried past her and out of the kitchen.

Victor stood in the front room talking to Hiroko, his hands in his pockets, looking carelessly handsome with tousled hair and simple, loose clothes. His face lit up when Yuuri stumbled into the room.

“Ah, Yuuri, there you are,” Hiroko said, sounding as casual as if they had royalty in the onsen every day. “The prince was telling me about the unicorn you named after my katsudon.”

“Oh.” Yuuri had nearly forgotten. “Yes, how is he?”

“He responds to his name now,” Victor said, meeting Yuuri’s eyes with a grin.

“Are you hungry?” Hiroko asked. “Yuuri, he probably hasn’t eaten yet. Go feed him.”

“O-okay.” Yuuri let himself be shooed back into the kitchen with Victor at his heels. Mari took one look at them and made herself scarce. While Victor sat by the counter, Yuuri busied himself with pulling out food. “What would you like? I can make eggs, that’s simple. Would you like eggs?”

“I’ll like anything you make,” Victor said, resting his chin on his hands and watching him. Yuuri turned away and pretending to concentrate on cracking eggs into a pan.

He was almost afraid to look back again and see Victor here, in his home. It was inexplicably odd to see him surrounded by the familiarity of the kitchen. Somehow, Victor looked achingly at place here, though Yuuri was now aware of every crack and stain on the counter, every place in the kitchen where dust gathered. He ran his hand self-consciously through his hair again, relieved that Victor couldn’t see his face.

“I didn’t know you were going to come here,” he admitted shakily. “I thought you would send a note or something.”

“I’m sorry to catch you by surprise. But we’re leaving in an hour and I didn’t want to waste any time.”

Yuuri’s hands stilled for a moment. “An hour?”

“Yes.” Victor’s voice sounded regretful. “My father has business to return to in the capital.”

“I see.”

After a few minutes, Yuuri moved the cooked eggs onto two separate plates, setting one down in front of Victor and sitting beside him. They ate in silence for a few minutes.

“Is your bedroom attached to the kitchen?” Victor asked, looking around.

“What? No.”

“Your mother said you were asleep and then you came out of here . . .”

“Oh.” Yuuri flushed. “My room is being used by guests, so I’ve been sleeping in the pantry.”

Victor’s eyes widened. “You haven’t! Yuuri, you should have told me. I could’ve – I don’t know – found you a place in the town center.”

Yuuri looked down at his half empty plate. “Don’t worry about it. It’s a good thing, actually, because it means that we have more guests. I don’t mind, honestly.”

“You shouldn’t have to sleep in the _pantry_.”

Glancing up, Yuuri couldn’t help but laugh a little at Victor’s mildly horrified expression. “It’s better than sleeping in an ogre’s den.”

Victor’s face relaxed slightly at the memory. “You have questionable sleeping habits, Yuuri.”

They fell silent again and Victor continued to pick at his food. Yuuri wondered if Victor was expecting him to say something, though he couldn’t imagine what.

He was about to ask when Victor put his fork down and said, “Yuuri, I—” He stopped abruptly.

“Yes?” Yuuri prompted. Victor chewed his lip, looking as if he was holding something back. “Was there something you wanted to tell me?”

Victor stood suddenly, his chair scraping against the stone floor. “Let’s go for a walk.”

“Okay.” Confused, but wanting to know what Victor was so hesitant about, Yuuri followed him out of the onsen and into the street. The sun was barely over the horizon and few people were outside, most still in bed after the festivities of the night before.

“Can we go to Vicchan’s grave?” Victor asked. Yuuri nodded and took the lead. A short walk brought them to the cemetery, where they stopped in front of the simple headstone.

“I didn’t bring flowers,” Victor said, real regret in his voice.

“That’s alright. I brought some the other day.” The daisies were browned and wilting, but they still added a bit of brightness to the colorless cemetery.

Victor knelt down in front of the grave and placed a hand on the headstone. “Hello, Vicchan,” he said. “I wish we could have met. I think we would have been friends. Thank you for being a good friend to Yuuri before I could meet him.”

Yuuri couldn’t help but smile as Victor straightened up again.

“This was where we met,” Victor murmured. “Do you remember?”

“Of course.” How could he forget? The knowledge that Victor remembered as well, though, spread a warmth through Yuuri’s chest.

“Yuuri, I need to tell you something,” Victor sighed at last.

“What is it?” Victor’s tone had him worried. A hundred horrific scenarios flashed through Yuuri’s head all at once.

“I’m leaving the kingdom for a while.” Victor’s voice was heavy. “For a year.”

“A year,” Yuuri echoed. “Why?”

“I’m going to become king someday, perhaps someday soon, and my father wants to be sure that I have good diplomatic ties with all of the neighboring kingdoms. I’m going to spend a few months with each of our neighbors, learning about them and meeting all of the prominent people.”

“Oh.” Yuuri tried not to let his disappointment show in his voice. “Well, that sounds very important.”

“I’m sure it is, but that doesn’t make it any easier to go. I won’t see you for a year.”

“I’ll write to you,” Yuuri said immediately. Victor smiled.

“Good.” He looked down and scuffed the loose dirt with his toe. “My father expects me to marry soon, too.”

“Oh,” Yuuri said again. “I see.” He didn’t know how to respond.

“Yes.” Victor huffed out a breath through his teeth. Neither of them spoke, and Yuuri looked out beyond the cemetery, where he could see the town center’s clock tower rising above the rest of Hasetsu. He thought of dancing there with Victor in the dark.

“It’s only a year,” he said, though even as he said it, the words sounded empty. A year was an awfully long time.

“Right.” After a pause, Victor said, “I should go back. They’ll be expecting me.”

“Okay.” They walked side by side away from Vicchan’s grave, neither of them speaking. Yuuri glanced at him as they walked, wishing he could think of something to say, though nothing came to mind. They stopped in front of the town center, where Victor held his arms out and Yuuri went into them without hesitation.

“I’ll miss you, Yuuri,” Victor whispered, his mouth brushing against Yuuri’s ear.

“I’ll miss you too,” Yuuri mumbled into his shoulder.

Victor sighed, squeezing him tighter. “It gets harder every time I have to say goodbye to you.”

Yuuri felt the same way. For a long time, neither of them moved. Yuuri wished they could stay there forever, but it was Victor who finally stepped away.

“Write to me at the capital. I leave from there in a week, and then I’ll tell you where you should write to.”

“Okay,” Yuuri said. “I will, I promise.”

“Okay.” Victor reached out, hesitated, then seemed to decide to keep going as he stepped toward Yuuri and pressed a kiss onto his forehead. Too soon, he pulled away. “I’ll see you in a year.”

“Bye,” Yuuri murmured. Victor smiled to him one last time before he climbed the steps to the town center and disappeared from view. Swallowing hard, Yuuri turned away and began the walk back to the onsen alone.

 

* * *

 

Slowly, life in Hasetsu went back to normal, or as normal as it could after hosting a kingdom-wide festival. For the time being, at least, travelers and tourists had returned to their small seaside town. The onsen saw a boom of business that it rarely had this late in the year. Yuuri returned to working there all the time, dropping his extra job at the Nishigori’s shoe shop, since the onsen had let off all the extra workers they hired for the festival. He worked harder then ever, though that once would have seemed impossible to him. Lit with a new resolve, he was determined to keep the onsen open and not let Victor’s hard work for them go to waste.

Almost immediately, he returned to writing to Victor. The letters felt right and familiar. Before long, Victor left the capital city to travel to the kingdom to the north, where he would spend the next four months. His letters grew less frequent, having to travel a greater distance, but Yuuri treasured each one nonetheless. They were the bright spots in his otherwise long and thankless days of working.

As the weeks passed and the weather got cooler, business began to drop off, as Yuuri had known it would. Still, he thought that the festival’s boost would be enough to get them through to the next summer. Not wanting to risk it, though, he made sure they budgeted as much as possible. More often than not, he went to bed on an empty stomach.

He didn’t mention this to Victor. Although it had been a relief the last time to tell the truth, he didn’t want Victor to feel obligated to help him every time he found himself in a spot of trouble. The autumn festival had been an incredible gesture and had saved more than just the onsen, but the more Yuuri thought about it, the more he felt a little embarrassed. The prince had arranged a whole festival for _him_. It all seemed like too much, certainly more than he deserved. Surely there were others in the kingdom who needed Victor’s attention more than Yuuri did, who probably deserved it more, and it was selfish of Yuuri to ask for more than he deserved. No, Victor didn’t need to know. Besides, the more Yuuri complained, the faster Victor would tire of him.

Instead, Yuuri kept up the pretext that business at the onsen was better than ever. That, he thought, would make Victor feel good. As much as Victor had assured him that his work arranging the festival had been worth it, Yuuri wasn’t convinced; he wanted to be sure that Victor didn’t regret helping him.

Meanwhile, Victor told him all about the places he travelled. The kingdom to the north was much colder this time of year than Hasetsu; as the leaves were just beginning to fall off the trees outside the onsen, Victor wrote that the first snowfall of the season had blanketed the palace where he was staying in white. The kingdom had a large population of goblins, and Victor told him about their strange customs and their food that looked disgusting but tasted delicious. _“Yurio managed to insult some important goblin official in our first week, and from then on he’s been served the dishes that taste as disgusting as they look,”_ Victor wrote in one letter. _“I’m sure you can imagine how much he complains about that.”_

The little stories that he included made Yuuri smile even on the hardest days. They took his mind off his own worries and offered him a brief escape from work here. Sometimes, when he sat on his bed at the end of the day, he liked to imagine that Victor was sitting beside him, reading the words aloud, instead of miles and miles away.

He missed Victor, though perhaps it was a little silly, considering that they had only met in person a handful of times. But whenever Yuuri thought back to the way Victor smiled at him, the squeeze of his hand, the sparkle in his blue eyes, he longed to see him again. He wished the rest of the year would fly by and Victor would return, just so that Yuuri could see him again.

Not that it would make a difference. Victor would still be a full day’s journey away, in the capital, and Yuuri would still be an onsen worker, a commoner, and eventually their time together would end and Yuuri would fade out of Victor’s memory.

At the end of one letter, Victor added a postscript that appeared to have been scribbled on last minute. “ _P.S. Do you think you will ever marry? I’ve been told to think seriously about the subject, as I’m within marrying age and it is generally expected for a king to have a partner on the throne. But I am not even twenty years old and the idea of choosing a partner for life at this age is admittedly daunting. What do you think?”_

Yuuri had spent the afternoon dealing with a loud guest who repeatedly sent his food back to the kitchen, insisting that it was either over or undercooked. Unable to refuse his orders, Yuuri had been send scuttling back and forth, enduring the guest’s abuse, until Minako took pity on him and dealt with the guest herself. Now, he was mind-numbingly exhausted. After responding to the rest of Victor’s letter as normal, he paused to chew on the end of his pen before adding his own note at the end.

_“P.S. I haven’t given much thought to marriage, to be honest. I’m two years younger than you, so the idea is probably even more daunting for me. In any case, I think I’m much too young to get married, and certainly too tired.”_

It was the truth, he supposed, though he wasn’t sure what Victor had hoped to hear. He couldn’t think of a more clever answer; his head drooped over his desk with exhaustion.

Days later, Victor’s response contained another addition:

_“P.S. I hate to downplay your unease about marriage, but I assure you that I am under considerably more pressure when it comes to finding a partner. Whoever I choose must be a suitable fit for the throne. They must be worthy of royalty but also beloved by the people. Marriage is no easy task for a crown prince._

_You claim that you are too young and too tired to get married, but those can both be easily fixed. Time can remedy your youth and a good night’s sleep can do wonders for weariness. Do you have any other trepidations?”_

Yuuri shook his head, smiling, and wrote in his reply: _“P.S. If I’m not too young or too tired to get married, then surely I’m too dirty.”_ He had told Victor earlier in the letter about having to scrape out the inside of the oven after a disastrous cooking incident. Covered in soot and smelling of old grease, his hands left smudges on the paper as he wrote. He felt nothing like he had on the night of the festival, when Victor had taken his hand and told him he looked nice despite his ill-fitting clothes. He was glad that Victor couldn’t see him now.

Nearly every letter from Victor after that included some reiteration of the question about marriage, though Yuuri always answered in the same way. He was always too tired or too hungry or too quiet or too sore to get married. It became a sort of game, he supposed. He didn’t know why Victor kept asking him, but he guessed that it was his way of keeping himself entertained.

On Yuuri’s eighteenth birthday, he woke up to a box of spiced rolls from the north on the doorstep of the onsen. Along with the box was another letter from Victor.

_Yuuri,_

_I apologize if these don’t reach you in time for your birthday. The weather here has worsened, which makes transport more difficult. I wanted to send you a taste of my favorite food from my stay here. I hope you will like them as much as I do!_

_Yours,_

_Victor_

_P.S. You are now a year older. Are you still too young for marriage?_

Yuuri shared the rolls with family, which they ate along with Hiroko’s pork cutlet bowls. That night, he went to bed with his stomach fuller than it had been in months.

For Victor’s birthday a month later, Yuuri agonized over what to send him. He couldn’t afford the price of sending anything large – not that he had any idea of what he would send. Victor probably received piles of gifts for his birthday, and anything that Yuuri sent him would seem tiny and insignificant.

Victor had complained about not seeing any plants in the northern winter landscape, so finally Yuuri plucked a few of the peonies that Hiroko grew year round in a pot in the kitchen. He pressed them between the pages of his books and sealed them into his next letter, hoping they would be enough. Compared to Victor’s gift, though, it felt like nothing.

Eventually, Victor left the northern kingdom, barely escaping before a massive snowstorm hit that locked the entire kingdom indoors for weeks. His letter to Yuuri was delayed by several days because of the weather, which had Yuuri chewing on his fingernails, terrified that something horrible had happened. Victor traveled southeast, to kingdom on the other side of the mountains, where he spent a great deal of his time with giants. He reported to Yuuri that they were the most welcoming of the magical beings that he had encountered. Their food, however, was apparently lackluster, especially compared to the goblins’.

Reading his letters, Yuuri began to feel that restlessness again, that urge to leave Hasetsu and see the world. As much as he had tried to push it away for the past months, it returned persistently, especially when hearing about Victor’s travels. He longed to be there with him, to experience all the same things that Victor experienced, to hear his stories from his own mouth. Most of all, though, he longed to see Victor again. His thoughts kept returning to the night of the festival. Victor pulling him close, his breath warm on his cheek, humming a waltz as they danced in the dark. Victor pressing his lips to Yuuri’s cheek. In Yuuri’s imagination, he could almost feel it again: the weight of Victor’s hand on Yuuri’s shoulder, fingers weaving together, his thumb tracing circles on Yuuri’s back . . .

He quickly pushed those thoughts away every time they resurfaced, in case they went too far. Surely he was imagining some of it. Victor couldn’t have looked at him in the way that Yuuri thought he did. No, Yuuri was surely remembering what he wanted to, not what had really happened.

In any case, Victor was far, far away and Yuuri was stuck in Hasetsu. Between letters, Yuuri was sure that Victor would soon grow tired of him and stop writing, only to be reassured with the arrival of each new letter that Victor was still interested, at least for now.

For his own part, Victor was becoming introspective. He didn’t have many responsibilities in this new kingdom and much of his time was spent finding his own ways of keeping himself busy. Apparently, this meant a lot of wandering through gardens and pondering life.

 _“I’ve come to realize that I’m a very selfish person,”_ he wrote. _“The people here are unbelievably selfless and hardworking. They can’t go an hour without doing something kind for somebody else. It’s made me realize how little I’ve really done for others. I was born into so much privilege but I haven’t taken advantage of it to help anyone other than myself. Instead, I complain about it and run away from my duties like a child. Even the things that may appear to be altruistic to an outside observer, like holding the autumn festival in Hasetsu, comes from extremely self-centered motivation – namely, wanting to see you. I’ve never done something truly unselfish, for the gain of somebody other than myself. (Perhaps this was what my father hoped to teach me by sending me here. It would be highly inconvenient if I actually learned something that he was trying to teach me.)_

_“I suppose I’ll add that to my long list of vices. Since you know me better than almost anyone else, I may as well list them out. I am selfish, I am vain, I am too proud. I love too easily but hide myself from others. I make decisions without thinking of the consequences or how it will affect others. I am supposed to be sure of myself, since someday I’ll rule the kingdom, but if I’m honest I usually have no idea how to act. My father and his counselors are quick to point out these flaws, as I know they should, but I think I am only beginning to realize how much they will affect my rule._

_“You, of course, have no vices”_ (Here, Yuuri snorted out loud.) _“so it may be difficult for you to understand what I’m talking about. Perhaps the quiet and the free time here is making me think too much. I should find Yurio – he always manages to keep me occupied, usually by doing something stupid.”_

Yuuri knew that Victor was wrong – after all, he was the least selfish person Yuuri knew – but he didn’t try to argue in his response. Instead, he assured Victor that he didn’t think any less of him. He wanted to correct Victor’s assertion that Yuuri had no vices, but even writing out his flaws made them feel too real. _I’m weak and afraid of nearly everything and I think too much. I think until I’ve convinced myself that something is wrong. I have no confidence in myself and I can’t even save my family’s onsen by myself._ The words stared back at him from the page until he crossed them out. If Victor hadn’t already discovered his flaws, he would soon enough. No need for Yuuri to speed up the process.

Winter began to pass into spring and the anniversary of Vicchan’s death, two years ago, arrived. Yuuri walked to the cemetery, as had become his habit whenever he had the time, and sat on the damp earth in front of his dog’s headstone.

“I still miss you, Vicchan,” he whispered. He had never gotten used to the empty space on his floor where Vicchan used to sleep. Now, more than ever, he longed for his old friend, if only for the comfort of the poodle’s familiar curls and his warm body that Yuuri could wrap his arms around when the world felt too big and too difficult.

He closed his eyes, remembering the first time Victor spoke to him, standing only a few feet from this spot. For a moment, he could almost imagine that Victor was there now, that he would sit down beside Yuuri, perhaps wrap an arm around his shoulders to draw him close, and say exactly the thing that Yuuri needed to hear.

“I miss him, too,” he admitted to Vicchan. It felt different saying it out loud than it had inside his head. He nodded shortly, his chest pinching. “I miss him a lot.”

When he left the cemetery, his shoulders felt a little heavier and he walked with a weight in his step.

A letter addressed to him sat on the kitchen counter. He had been expecting one the day before, but it wasn’t unusual for Victor’s letters to be delayed, perhaps by weather or difficulties on the road. Nonetheless, he brightened a little when he spotted it, leaning against the counter as he tore it open. He began to read.

_Dear Yuuri,_

_I have started and restarted this letter more times than I can count but I can never find the perfect words. They elude me, infuriatingly. In truth, I’ve spent months trying to find the right way of saying this, but anything I come up with sounds dishonest or trite. Since I can’t write elegantly as I’d hoped, I will tell you plainly, in the simplest way I know how._

_I love you._

_What a relief it is to write those words! I want to write them a hundred times. I love you. I love you. Yuuri, I am in love with you, and I think I have been nearly from the moment I met you._

_Being apart from you is agony. I feel the miles between us like a pain in my chest and I want to fly across the distance just to see you again, to hear your voice and see your smile. Every letter I receive is a torturous blessing. You tell me so little about yourself; you remain enigmatic and distant and I find myself longing for more. I want to know every detail of your life. I want to know what you think and feel at every minute. I read and reread your letters, searching for hidden meaning in every line, hoping to get some clue of what you are thinking, and praying that you feel the same way as me._

_You tease me with your elusiveness. You tell me you are too young or too tired or too hungry to marry, but I must know your real answer. I am the perfect age to marry and I have never felt more ready in my life. I want to marry you, Yuuri. In fact, I beg to marry you. I don’t expect that my father would object, but even if he does, I don’t care. I would drop the crown to be with you, move to Hasetsu and work alongside you at the onsen, if only we could be together._

_I wish I had the words to tell you how much of a wonder you are. You enchant me, Yuuri, simply by being. Every minute that I’m with you, I long to be closer, and every minute that we’re apart, I wish I could drop everything to be near you. I never want to leave your side for the rest of my life. You have brought hope back into my life and you have saved me in ways that you cannot imagine._

_I must know, Yuuri, if you love me too. I can only be happy with you, I know that. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me. Marry me, please. I breathlessly await your reply._

_Love (love, love, love, love),_

_Victor_

Yuuri stared at the paper. He had stopped breathing a few lines in.

Victor loved him. Victor _loved_ him? Victor was in love with him; he called him a wonder and said that Yuuri enchanted him. He asked Yuuri to marry him – he _begged_ Yuuri to marry him.

It was inconceivable.

Yuuri was nobody. He was a commoner, the son of onsen owners, probably the least important person Victor had ever spoken to. He was plain and quiet and awkward; he had grease underneath his fingernails and dirt in the lines of his hands.

But the prince was in love with him.

Yuuri gripped the edge of the counter, his legs weak. He sucked in a long breath; his head felt light.

“Yuuri? Are you alright?”

His eyes found Hiroko in the doorway of the kitchen, frowning at him in concern. Swallowing, Yuuri somehow found his voice.

“Yes. I . . . I need some air.”

He stumbled out the kitchen’s side door to the little vegetable garden that Hiroko kept during the summer. It was nothing but plain dirt now, where Yuuri sat and lifted the letter up, reading it again to make sure that he hadn’t imagined it.

Victor loved him. The words didn’t make sense in his head. He whispered it out loud: “Victor loves me.” Then he clapped his hand over his mouth. A broken sob escaped from behind his fingers as tears spilled down his cheeks. Wiping them away quickly, Yuuri tried to pull himself under control so that he could think.

Did he love Victor? _Yes_ , he thought immediately, and his shoulders slumped. It was a relief to think it. Now that he let himself admit it, he could see how true it was, how wholeheartedly he loved Victor. The thought of it made him smile, despite the sobs threatening to break him open. Why was he crying, then?

 _I’m happy,_ he realized. _I love Victor and Victor loves me_. What a precious, beautiful thing.

How long had he loved him? Victor claimed to have loved him since they met, and Yuuri realized that a part of him had too, in a way. Though not in the same way; his love had grown deeper and stronger as he learned more about Victor. Perhaps he had loved Victor longer than that, through Vicchan, whom he named after the prince. Yuuri thought it possible that he loved Victor even more than Victor loved him; he loved him until he thought he could burst. It spilled out of him, overflowing, unending.

Victor wanted to marry him and Yuuri realized he had never wanted anything more. He wanted to spend his days at Victor’s side, learning everything about each other, growing old together. Nothing, he thought, would make him happier.

His heart flying in his chest, Yuuri leapt to his feet and dashed back through the kitchen, ignoring Hiroko’s confused questions. Already, he was drafting his response in his head. _I love you, Victor. Of course I love you. Marrying you would make me happier than I have ever been._

“Yuuri, wait up!”

Minako’s voice froze him halfway up the stairs. Practically vibrating, he spun around to face her; she had a basket of laundry balanced on her hip.

“Help me out with this laundry, will you?” she said.

Yuuri could feel the curse pulling on him, but he stayed put, grabbing onto the banister to steady himself. “Do I have to now?”

Minako spotted the letter clutched in his hand and sighed, rolling her eyes. “Oh, fine. Go on, you can write to your prince first.”

Released, Yuuri sprinted the rest of the way up the stairs and into his bedroom, where he sat at his desk and pulled a blank paper in front of him. His pen hovered over the page, and he froze.

 _The curse._ For a few moments, he had nearly forgotten about it, but Minako had reminded him, clear as day, that he was not normal. He was cursed with obedience and he had spent his whole life avoiding situations where people would tell him what to do.

For a moment, he tried to imagine what life would be like when he and Victor married. Surely nobody would dare give the king’s husband an order. But that was risky. Yuuri could hardly take part in ruling the kingdom; he wouldn’t have any idea what to do and it would be far too easy for others to take advantage of his position, simply by giving him a command that he couldn’t refuse. Worse, some enemy of Victor’s could easily get to him through Yuuri, through a simple order and a knife slipped into his hand. Yuuri’s stomach dropped at the thought. He could be forced to kill Victor.

No, he wouldn’t let that happen. He would remain elusive – that was the word Victor used to describe him, wasn’t it? – and out of sight. The people would know of him but nobody would reach him; nobody could use him to hurt Victor. Yuuri could remain in the palace and only interact with Victor and perhaps a handful of trusted others. But would Victor really want that? Would Yuuri want that, to remain locked up in a palace like a captive, bound by his curse like he had always feared?

Either way, Yuuri would have to tell Victor about the curse. Only hours before, that may have seemed tempting, but now that the prospect was in front of him, Yuuri was suddenly afraid. What would Victor think of him? Would he stop loving him, knowing that Yuuri was cursed, broken? Would he want him any longer with all the extra trouble that the curse would cause them? Surely he would understand why Yuuri had kept it to himself for so long – but would he? Victor had laid out his heart to Yuuri, and in turn Yuuri had kept his biggest secret to himself out of fear of the consequences.

He flattened Victor’s letter out on the table in front of him, eyes flying over it again. His heart leapt at a new possibility. Victor said he would sacrifice his throne to be with Yuuri, living in Hasetsu with him as a commoner. They wouldn’t have to deal with royals or politics or enemies, or anything.

The idea was pushed away almost as soon as it came. How could Yuuri ask Victor to give that up for him? If he thought loving him was selfish, stealing him away from his birthright was even more so. As much as Victor complained about his position, he was _meant_ to be king; it was what he had spent his life preparing for. And who would step up to take his place? The kingdom could fall into chaos and it would be entirely Yuuri’s fault. The people would resent him. And how long would it take before Victor came to resent him as well? Stuck in this small town, nothing like the life he was used to – he would grow to hate it, and Yuuri along with it. That would hurt more than anything.

Victor had to be king. And Yuuri couldn’t marry him.

The realization hit him like a blow to the chest. He gasped out loud as hot tears sprang to his eyes. For a few moments, all Yuuri could do was stare at Victor’s letter as the words grew blurry.

He couldn’t marry Victor. He loved him, more than he had thought he could love anyone, but he couldn’t marry him. _For Victor’s own safety_ , he feebly reminded himself, but no noble reasoning could alleviate the ache in his chest. A sob tore through him and he clutched the edge of his desk as his shoulders shook and the tears fell faster and faster, unending.

Desperately, he ran over every possibility in his mind, trying to think of some scenario where they could both be happy. Marry Victor but be a constant danger to him, or remain shut up in the palace to slowly lose his sanity. Marry Victor but force him to give up his throne and everything he had worked for in his life. Not marry Victor and – what? Pretend that this had never happened? Continue writing to each other as if neither were in love with each other, as if Yuuri’s heart didn’t ache every time he thought of him?

They could never go back to the way things had been. Either Yuuri married Victor or he stopped writing to him altogether. Anything else would be unimaginably painful. And since Yuuri couldn’t marry Victor . . .

He could never see Victor again.

He choked on a sob and buried his face in his hands. Each sob felt like it could break him into pieces.

At some point, he managed to drag himself over to his bed, where he lay crying until exhaustion dragged him to sleep.

 

* * *

 

Hours later, he woke up to morning sunlight streaming through his window and Mari’s voice calling his name. His eyes felt puffy and his mouth was dry. His first waking thought was _Victor_ , and then everything hurt all over again.

“Yuuri!” Mari’s shouted from downstairs. “Where are you? You’re supposed to be helping me with breakfast!”

She would probably order him to come downstairs next, Yuuri thought. Another reminder of his curse. Idly, he wondered if he could resist the order simply because his body refused to move. He doubted he had the strength to pull himself out of his bed.

Instead, he heard Mari’s footsteps pounding up the stairs. She knocked on his door and asked, “Yuuri? Are you in there?”

Yuuri said nothing. Lying on his side facing away from the door, he watched a tree branch outside sway in the breeze.

His door creaked open. Mari’s voice: “He’s asleep.”

A little farther away, Minako said, “Go wake him up and tell him to get his lazy butt downstairs.”

Mari crept toward the bed and out of the corner of his eye, Yuuri saw her raise her arms, about to pounce on him like she used to do when they were little. Then, seeing that his eyes were already open, she stopped.

“Yuuri? You’re awake.”

He didn’t move. He couldn’t.

“What’s going on?” Mari raised her voice a little. “Minako? Come here.”

Yuuri closed his eyes briefly as Minako’s footsteps entered his room. Mari murmured something to her, and then Minako’s hand touched Yuuri’s shoulder.

“Yuuri, what’s wrong?” she asked, her voice uncharacteristically gentle. “Did something happen?”

Not wanting to explain, Yuuri shifted slightly to point to the letter still lying on his desk. A disconnected part of his brain thought that Victor probably wouldn’t want him to show it to others, but he couldn’t find the strength to speak. It would be better for Victor to hate him now, anyway.

Minako crossed to the desk and picked up the letter. Yuuri watched as she and Mari read it together, their eyes widening with each line.

Finally, Mari looked up, her mouth falling open. “Yuuri, he’s . . .”

Yuuri shook his head slightly and looked at Minako, whose eyebrows were pinched together. “Yuuri . . .” she whispered.

“I know.” It was the first time he had spoken in hours, and his voice came out cracked. Fresh tears welled up and he closed his eyes and looked away to hide them.

His bed dipped as Minako sat down on the edge of it. “The curse.”

“I can’t marry him.” Saying the words out loud made it all feel real. A few tears slipped out and landed on his pillow despite his best efforts.

“I’m so sorry.” Minako’s voice was softer than Yuuri had ever heard it. He felt her weight as she leaned down to hug him from behind, while Mari took his hand to squeeze tightly. For a while, they stayed there, holding onto him as he cried, as if they were the only things holding him together.

After Minako and Mari left him alone, Yuuri couldn’t leave his bed for hours. He knew he had to respond to Victor’s letter, but the thought of it sent him into fresh waves of tears. He had no idea what to say, how to explain why he couldn’t marry him even though he loved him, without revealing his secret.

There was no way to do it properly. As he thought about it, he realized that the only thing he could do was make Victor hate him so much that he no longer cared. Perhaps that would mean breaking Victor’s heart – and Yuuri hated himself at the thought of it – but it would be better in the long run. Victor would move on. Yuuri had always suspected that Victor’s interest in him was only a passing thing; even if Victor loved him now, he would no doubt forget about him within a few months. The more Victor hated him, the faster he would forget him.

Writing the letter took Yuuri three hours and five pieces of paper. The first four he ruined by crying on them, and the fifth because he forgot to disguise his handwriting. Finally, he had a letter that he knew would erase any love Victor had once felt for him.

_Dear Prince Victor,_

_I’m sorry to say that your latest letter missed my brother by two days. He was not here to read it because he has run away and, we suspect, eloped._

_It was a surprise to us, as I expect it will be to you. I am afraid we all misjudged Yuuri’s character. He always kept to himself and I believe there was much more going on below the surface than any of us realized. Certainly, he possessed a much more selfish heart than we suspected._

_He enjoyed being the center of your attention and from time to time he read your letters aloud to us triumphantly. I think he held dreams of marrying you, but soon despaired of that when you seemed reluctant to show your affection. It was all about the money and power to him. He apparently find something better, as he left two days ago with a rich guest we had at the onsen who seemed quite taken with him. The only thing he left behind was a note, which I have enclosed._

_As much as this may come as a shock to you, I beg you not to be disheartened. Yuuri was never true, that much is clear, and it is best that you forget him as he has probably already forgotten you._

_I’m sorry to be the bearer of these unfortunate news, but I hope the rest of your travels find you well._

_Your humble servant,_

_Mari Katsuki_

Grabbing a new sheet of paper and willing his hands not to shake, Yuuri wrote the next note in his own handwriting.

_I know this is sudden, but I didn’t want to have to tell you in person. You don’t know him and there is no need for you to, as I don’t plan to return to Hasetsu. He is very rich and can take me to all the places that I never could go when I was stuck here. I may send money back from time to time, but perhaps not. I understand that you may be angry, but you know that I was never meant to stay here. I’ll be happier with him and his money than I could ever be scrubbing pots and folding laundry. Since we may never meet again, I wish you all the best._

_\- Yuuri_

Taking a slow breath and wiping the tears that blurred his eyes, Yuuri reread the letters. Victor would hate him. He would believe it, too, especially since he himself complained that Yuuri kept too much to himself, hid himself away where Victor couldn’t see. It wasn’t a stretch to believe that Yuuri had been doing it to hide his own selfishness.

Victor would hate him, but that was exactly what Yuuri wanted. Victor couldn’t hold onto some false hope that Yuuri might come running back; he had to let him go, fully and completely. Which meant that he had to hate Yuuri so much that it was easy to forget that he had once loved him.

Yuuri slipped the papers into an envelope. He would give them to Minako to mail, since he didn’t have the strength to do it himself. Instead, he found his way back into his bed, where he pushed his face into his pillow and let the tears roll out.

Victor loved him. And Yuuri loved Victor.

But Yuuri couldn’t marry him.

And even as he knew that he was breaking Victor’s heart, Yuuri could feel his own heart splintering within his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *posts this chapter and hides behind a rock*  
> [you can yell at me on tumblr, if you want](http://wecalleverythinglove.tumblr.com/)


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, life all of the sudden got very real, which is why this chapter took a while. But I'm thiiiis close to the end of finals!
> 
> Anyways, hope this chapter is worth the wait!

Months dragged past.

At first, it was all too easy for Yuuri to shut himself away inside his room and let himself drown in his misery. But he quickly discovered that it gave him too much space to think. That led to doubt, wondering if he’d done the right thing, imagining how Victor reacted to his last letter. That was the worst part. He didn’t want to think about Victor’s face when he tore open the letter, expecting a response to his confession, only to have his heart broken.

Instead, Yuuri threw himself back into work, forcing himself to keep moving. Mercifully, his family didn’t mention it to him. Minako had mailed his letter without a word of question, and perhaps she and Mari told his parents what happened because nobody brought it up. Yuuri could tell that they were making an effort to refrain from thoughtlessly giving orders, which he appreciated.

When Yuuri let himself think about it, which was more often than he would have liked, he wanted to take it all back, every word of that letter. But he couldn’t do that. He had to let Victor go, so he worked until he couldn’t think about anything else.

But at night as he lay in bed, before his exhaustion pulled him to sleep, his mind wandered into _what if, what if, what if._ A thousand scenarios flashed through his head, each one somehow ending with him finding Victor again, begging his forgiveness, and marrying him. As much as Yuuri tried not to let his imagination run away like that, he couldn’t stop himself.

Without realizing it, he had continued writing letters to Victor, at least in his own head. Whenever something happened that he thought Victor would have liked to hear about, he pretended he could still tell him.

_Dear Victor, today it rained so hard that my mother worried it would drown her vegetable garden, so Mari and I spent an hour in the mud transferring the plants into pots to keep indoors._

_Dear Victor, today a guest at the onsen had a pet poodle. It was only a puppy, but it made me think of Vicchan, and of course Makkachin. I hope Makka is doing well._

He didn’t write any of this down. It would be worse to see them on paper and know that he couldn’t send them.

He wished he could stop. He wished he could push away any thought of Victor at will, or at least think of Victor without his chest aching. Remembering that he could never see him again was near unbearable, though Yuuri knew that was the only option.

As spring rounded into summer, business at the onsen picked up as usual. With Yuuri working harder than ever, they didn’t have to hire any more help, and for the first time in over a year, money wasn’t so tight. It was a relief to be able to eat full meals and buy the occasional trinket or sweet treat at the market. Even if Yuuri’s heart was broken, it was gratifying to know that all of his work had paid off to save the onsen, at least for now.

One afternoon, Yuuri received a letter from Phichit, who had just finished his second year at Celestino’s School. He and his family would be travelling north up the coast in a few weeks, and Hasetsu would be one of their stops. Yuuri’s heart leapt at the prospect of seeing his friend. At the next line, though, it dropped again.

 _“I have something interesting to tell you about when I get there!”_ Phichit wrote. _“I’ll give you a hint: it has to do with your prince.”_

Whatever it was, Yuuri didn’t want to hear. He hadn’t told Phichit about anything that had happened between him and Victor, unsure how to explain it over paper and not wanting to relive it by writing it out. So of course Phichit probably thought he and Victor were still writing back and forth. Yuuri dreaded having to explain, and didn’t even know how to without telling Phichit everything.

Still, he tried not to let that damper his excitement. He made sure that there were rooms in the onsen available when Phichit and his family came, and even asked Mari to take over some of his duties so he would have more time to spend with his friend. Although she acted annoyed at his request, he could tell that she was glad that he had a reason to smile again.

On the day that Phichit arrived, Yuuri waited by the town center for their coach. When it arrived, Phichit burst out the door and ran to Yuuri, wrapping him into a hug. They stayed there until Phichit’s three younger sisters crowded around them and demanded to be introduced.

Yuuri couldn’t keep the smile off his face, which was a welcome relief from his misery of the past few months. He and Phichit kept their arms around each other’s shoulders as he led the way back to the onsen, introduced them to his family, and brought them their rooms. Phichit asked Yuuri to show him around Hasetsu and Yuuri was happy to comply.

They hadn’t seen each other in over a year and had a lot to catch up on, so much of their time walking around Hasetsu was spent simply exchanging stories and news. For the next few hours, they simply walked around and talked, and Yuuri reveled in the simplicity and ease of it.

The sun was beginning to set over the sea as they ended up on the beach, a crisp wind whipping at their clothes. Their conversation had lulled slightly as they sat side by side on a log, facing the water.

“Oh, I nearly forgot!” Phichit’s eyes brightened. “I had something to tell you about the prince.”

“Oh. Right.” Yuuri had hoped he would forget altogether. He looked down at his shoes.

“Did you know that the prince is in Prathet?”

Yuuri hesitated, then nodded. In Victor’s journey through the neighboring kingdoms, Phichit’s southern kingdom was last. He would be there for the next few months before he returned to his home in the capital city at the beginning of autumn.

“Well, _I_ didn’t,” Phichit said, not seeming to notice Yuuri’s reluctance. “So you can imagine my surprise a few weeks ago when I was making a delivery to the local inn for my dad and I ran into him face to face! Of course I recognized him, after all those hours at Celestino’s spent learning the names and faces of the royals. He was trying to slip out the back kitchen door but he ran into me and sent my basket of fish flying _everywhere_. I was completely mortified, but he apologized over and over and helped me pick everything up. He was very polite for a royal.”

Yuuri felt his heart pinch. Yes, that sounded like Victor. He dug the toe of his shoe into the sand.

“I don’t know what came over me then,” Phichit went on, “but I had a moment of boldness and I mentioned you!”

Yuuri’s head snapped up. “You did?”

Surprised by his reaction, Phichit’s eyebrows shot upward. “Wow, clearly there are things you haven’t told me. Because the last I heard from you, the two of you were best pen-pals and he even moved the autumn festival here to see you. But when I told him that we were friends, he did not look happy at _all_.”

“What did you tell him?” Yuuri demanded. “What did he say?”

Frowning now, Phichit said, “I told him that we were friends from school and I hadn’t heard from you in a while but I hoped you were doing well. And then he got this weird look on his face and said something like, ‘I believe Yuuri is doing well, but I can’t say for certain. Last I heard, he was happily married.’” Phichit narrowed his eyes and Yuuri found himself flushing. “So unless there’s something very important that you’ve forgotten to mention, I’m curious why the prince thinks you’re _married_.”

“It’s . . . kind of a long story?” Yuuri offered uncertainly. “Did he say anything else?”

“Well,” Phichit said slowly. “I was surprised when he said that, which I think surprised him. Then he shook his head a little and said, ‘I think Yuuri must have changed since either of us last saw him.’ And then he apologized again and left. So are you going to tell me what all that was about?”

Yuuri took a deep breath. He had talked this over with Minako and his parents, and they had decided together that this was the right thing to do. He hadn’t been sure if it would come up, but now that it was here he didn’t know where to begin.

“I want to tell you,” he said slowly. “But like I said, it’s a very, _very_ long story.”

Phichit propped his chin on his hand with a look of rapt attention.

“Okay,” Yuuri said. “Well, I guess it begins when I was born. I wouldn’t stop crying, and there was this fairy named JJ . . .”

He had never explained the curse to anyone out loud and it was harder than he thought it would be, especially watching Phichit’s eyes widen and his mouth fall open.

“Wait, stop!” Phichit interrupted, and Yuuri’s tongue immediately froze in place. Seeing the affect of his words, Phichit looked shocked. “Oh no, Yuuri, did I just . . .? I didn’t mean to! I’m sorry.”

Despite himself, Yuuri found himself blinking back tears as Phichit rushed out apologizes and told Yuuri that he could speak. With his tongue unfrozen, Yuuri wanted to continue, but now his throat felt too tight. Phichit pulled him into a hug and Yuuri allowed a few tears to fall onto his friend’s shoulder.

“Have you ever told anyone?” Phichit asked.

“No one. Only my family knows.”

“Thank you for telling me,” Phichit murmured. “I’ll try not to order anything now. But I have a lot of questions. Can I ask questions?”

Yuuri nodded and Phichit pulled away to rattle off questions about how the curse worked, why JJ thought it was a gift, what kind of orders Yuuri had to obey. Answering all of them, Yuuri went on in his story, telling Phichit about meeting Victor for the first time, his desire to leave Hasetsu, going to Celestino’s School and seeing Victor again in the city on the journey there. He described how they had grown closer during his months at school, all while Yuuri struggled to survive the constant commands given by teachers. A look of understanding crossed Phichit’s face at this, and he interrupted a few more times to ask questions. He laughed when Yuuri explained his real reason for running away from Celestino’s – to find JJ at the giant’s wedding – and said that it all made sense now. When Yuuri recounted his run-in with the ogres and Victor’s rescue, Phichit cheered out loud, and JJ’s refusal to take away the curse earned an angry tirade that made Yuuri crack a smile.

A blush spread across his cheeks when he described the autumn festival, dancing in the clock tower, and Victor kissing his cheek at the end of the night. Then his voice broke as he began to talk about Victor’s letter months later, the last letter that Yuuri had received from him.

“He told me he loved me,” he whispered, looking down at the sand and willing himself not to cry. He had already shed enough tears over Victor in the past months. “He wanted to marry me.”

“Oh, Yuuri,” Phichit breathed. “But you couldn’t.”

Yuuri nodded. “Because of the curse.”

“You loved him too, didn’t you?”

“I did.” _I do_ , he thought.

“Yuuri, I’m so sorry.”

Unable to stop himself any longer, Yuuri pressed a hand to his face as a sob broke through. Phichit pulled him into his arms again and let him cry on his shoulder for a long time. Yuuri hadn’t let himself cry this openly in months; he had spent so long trying to push it down by ignoring what he was feeling, but now it all broke open.

When his tears finally stopped, Phichit murmured, “So that’s why he thought you were married. You lied to him, didn’t you?”

“I wrote to him, pretending to be Mari, saying that I had run away with a rich stranger, and that I was much more selfish than he thought I was. I needed him to hate me – that’s the only way he can forget about me.”

Phichit was quiet for a few moments. “I don’t know about that, but the look I saw on his face when I mentioned you definitely wasn’t hate. And I don’t think he’ll forget about you for a long time.”

Yuuri shook his head. “I _need_ him to forget. I can’t keep hurting him by staying in his memory.”

“Yuuri . . .”

“It doesn’t matter. Obviously he believed the letter, and it’s only been a few months so I’m sure he’ll forget soon. All he needs is more time.” He straightened up and wiped his eyes, relieved that, at least, he had assurance that Victor would move on.

“Are you sure that’s what you want?” Phichit asked hesitantly.

“I’m sure.” Yuuri had spent months telling himself this; he was well practiced in the lie. “It’s for the best.”

Phichit still looked unsure, but he nodded. “Thank you for telling me everything, Yuuri. And I hope that you can let yourself be happy someday, too.”

Yuuri frowned a little at this – that wasn’t what was important; it was Victor who had to be happy. But he squeezed Phichit’s hand and said, “Thank you.”

 

* * *

 

The three days that Phichit and his family spent in Hasetsu after that were the happiest that Yuuri had been since he stopped writing to Victor. Every minute that Yuuri wasn’t working at the onsen he spent with his friend. It was nice to have someone talk to that knew everything and that wasn’t family. He could tell that Phichit was making an effort to avoid giving orders, and the few times that he slipped up, he immediately apologized and took them back. Yuuri couldn’t help but smile every time.

When Phichit left, they hugged each other for so long that Phichit’s mother worried they would miss their coach. Yuuri promised to write more frequently and tell Phichit any updates on his situation, and Phichit promised to tell him all the gossip and funny stories from Celestino’s.

After that, Yuuri went back to working as he had before. The summer passed slowly, filled with work and sunshine and trying not to think about Victor. As time went by, Yuuri discovered that he could think about him without that a sharp, unbearable pain to his heart, only a low, dull ache. Now, sometimes he would lie awake at night, thinking about him while his chest ached, but smiling nonetheless. He thought of Victor’s wide, heart-shaped smile and his sparkling eyes, his long fingers and his elegant, looping handwriting. The way he said Yuuri’s name, the way his hair fell over his eyes, the way he’d hugged Yuuri the last time they said goodbye. It hurt, but Yuuri didn’t want those good memories to be spoiled by the bad. He thought that someday he might be able to remember Victor happily, if perhaps a little wistfully. It wouldn’t be anytime soon, but someday, he thought, it wouldn’t hurt like it did now.

As the first hints of autumn began to show on the trees, Yuuri realized it had been almost a year since he last saw Victor. He wondered how Victor had changed. He himself had grown a little taller, his hair a little longer, but he thought he was mostly the same, plain, uninteresting Yuuri.

One evening, as he carried a dinner tray out to guests at one of the tables, he overheard a snatch of their conversation.

“ . . . and the celebration for Prince Victor’s return to the capital is next week.”

Yuuri froze in place. Of course Victor would be returning now – he hadn’t given it much thought.

“Yes, the autumn festival? I’ve heard that all the young ladies and gentlemen of the kingdom are invited to the dances that the king is holding to welcome him home.”

Yuuri’s grip on the tray slackened; his hands went weak.

“They’re saying that the prince will choose someone to marry at one of the balls, though I don’t envy him having to choose from the entire kingdom!”

While the guests laughed among themselves, Mari spotted Yuuri’s stricken expression and hurried over, taking the tray from his limp hands and whispering, “Go into the kitchen.”

Numbly, Yuuri did as he was told. A moment later, Mari reappeared and grabbed onto his shoulders to steady him.

“I’m alright,” he assured her, even if it was a lie. “It just took me by surprise. Did you know about this?”

“I heard a rumor,” she admitted. “I wasn’t sure how to tell you.”

Yuuri nodded. “He’s going to choose someone to marry.” He wasn’t sure why that stung so much. Wasn’t that exactly what he had wanted? Victor was finally moving on and forgetting Yuuri, so why wasn’t Yuuri happy for him? He swallowed hard. “That’s . . . good.” The words tasted bitter.

“Yuuri . . .”

Shaking his head, he said, “All the young men and women are invited. Are you going?”

Mari looked surprised. “I wasn’t going to because . . . well, you know.”

“You should go.” Yuuri forced a cheerfulness into his voice that he didn’t feel. “Don’t worry about me. It would be fun – you never get to do things like this. Don’t you want to go to the capital?”

Mari smiled a little. “Well . . . it would be pretty amazing. Once in a lifetime, probably.” Then her eyebrows pinched together. “But are you sure you wouldn’t mind?”

“Of course not.” Yuuri pulled his face into a smile. “Please go, Mari.”

She giggled; Yuuri couldn’t remember the last time he heard her giggle. “Okay, I’ll go! But only if you come with me to the capital!”

Yuuri knew that seeing the city and being that close to Victor would only hurt, but he nodded. “Yes, I’ll go with you.” For Mari’s sake, of course.

The next week flew past with preparations for the festival. Mari, Yuuri, and Minako would go to the capital, leaving Hiroko and Toshiya to run the onsen in their absence. They didn’t expect to have too many guests during that time, as everyone would be going to the capital instead.

Minako helped Mari fix up a few old dresses for the three nights of the festival, making them worthy of a royal ball by using a few simple spells to make the fabric less plain and the trim a little fancier. Mari practically glowed with excitement; she never got to dress up and go to parties like this. Yuuri tried to emulate her excitement, but he couldn’t stop thinking about Victor meeting someone new at the festival, falling in love instantly, and marrying them. He reminded himself over and over that he couldn’t marry Victor, that this was for the best, but he couldn’t help but wish that circumstances were different.

The three of them left a few days before the festival began to ensure that they found an inn to stay at. They squeezed into a crowded coach heading north and Yuuri spent the journey staring out the window and feeling the hollowness in his chest yawn wider.

He and Victor hadn’t written in half a year. Even if Victor had been affected when Phichit mentioned him months ago, plenty of time had passed since then and he had to be moving on. Surely the fact that he was hosting these balls was a sign that he had no lingering feelings over Yuuri. It should be a relief. It was anything but.

Victor would dance with others, people who weren’t Yuuri. They would feel the warmth of his hands and the sound of his voice, which for one night had belonged solely to Yuuri. Victor would laugh and talk to strangers and maybe, at the end of the three nights, he would choose someone to marry. Someone different. Yuuri swallowed hard and shook his head, trying to push down the bitterness settling in his gut.

They arrived at the capital that evening, a full day before the first ball, and Minako managed to argue her way into securing them a room at an inn just outside the city. The room was tiny and Yuuri had to sleep on a mat on the floor while Minako and Mari squeezed onto the bed, but it was close enough to the city that Mari would be able to get to the palace easily for the festival.

The window of the inn gave Yuuri a clear view of the city nearby. The sky was overcast the next morning and didn’t set the city glowing in sunlight as it had the first time he saw it two years ago. Back then, he hadn’t thought something so grand and immense could exist; he had been overwhelmed simply standing in its streets. Only Victor’s appearance had made it bearable.

So much had changed since then, including Yuuri himself. He wondered if he could now walk among the streets without panicking and without Victor at his side, but he realized he didn’t want to. While Minako and Mari spent the morning exploring the city’s marketplace, Yuuri stayed in the inn, staring out the window and trying not to reminisce. He could see the palace perched in the center of the city and wondered if Victor was there now, maybe in his room at one of the top corner windows, maybe looking out at the sea and thinking about Yuuri too . . .

Minako and Mari returned a little after lunchtime, both of them beaming. Mari bounded over to Yuuri and handed him a paper shopping bag. “Yuuri, I found the perfect mask for the ball!”

Yuuri frowned, taking the delicate navy and black mask from the bag. “I thought you already had one.” The guests at the balls were supposed to arrive in masquerade, though many of them would no doubt take them off as the night went on to show off their beauty.

“I do have one.” Mari exchanged a sly look with Minako. “This one’s for you.”

It took Yuuri only a second to catch what she was suggesting. He held the mask out to her. “No.”

“Yuuri—”

“I’m not going to the festival,” he said firmly.

“But—” Minako started.

“Thank you for getting me the mask, but I’m not going.” Yuuri turned away, facing the window again,

“Don’t you want to see him again?” Minako asked.

Yuuri’s eyes stung so he closed them, swallowing hard. “Of course I do. But that doesn’t mean I want to break my heart all over again.” To watch him dance with others. To watch him fall in love with someone else.

“If you’re sure,” Mari said after a pause. She set the mask down beside Yuuri like an open invitation.

He didn’t say much as he helped Mari get ready for the night’s ball. Before long, she was dressed up in a dark pink gown unlike anything Yuuri had seen her wear before, her hair styled and curled, her face glowing with a smile. Even Yuuri couldn’t help but be pleased with her excitement.

“Have fun tonight,” he murmured as he tied her white and purple mask over her face. She squeezed his hand and kissed his cheek, then followed Minako down to the street, where she would hop aboard one of the carriages circling the city to pick up guests.

Yuuri stayed in the room, the smile that he had worn for Mari’s sake fading off his face. Unbidden, an image of Victor’s smile rose to his mind – wide and unrestrained, curving in that funny way that belonged only to him, meant solely for Yuuri. His laugh, the sparkle of his eyes, the way the sun made his silvery hair appear like moonlight in the middle of the day.

 _I want to see him again_ , Yuuri thought, and the realization cracked something open in his chest. His breath caught and he sat down hard on the edge of the bed. _I want to see him again_. His eyes wandered to the mask still lying on the windowsill. _I shouldn’t_ , he tried to remind himself, but his chest ached and he knew of only one way to make it stop.

His head snapped up when Minako pushed the door open. He stood up, and even before he opened his mouth, Minako had a knowing look in her eye.

“I want to see him again.”

“Okay,” she said, smiling. “So go to the ball.”

“I . . .” Yuuri’s head was spinning. “I can’t just go. I don’t have anything to wear, or . . .”

Minako laughed. “Well if an outfit is the only thing holding you back, I can help you there.”

Yuuri gaped at her. “You can?”

She shrugged nonchalantly. “I have a few tricks up my sleeve. I am your fairy guardian, after all.”

Yuuri blinked quickly and tried to wrap his head around this new idea. Of course he could go to the ball – he was invited, so why shouldn’t he? There would be hundreds of guests. He wouldn’t even have to speak to Victor. He would watch from afar, staying just out of reach. Nobody would have to know it was him. What would be the harm of that? His heart was already broken – he would let it mend by seeing Victor, only for it to break again when he left. But it would be worth it, if only to be close to him for that short time.

“I want to go,” he said resolutely. Minako stepped forward and placed her hands on his shoulders.

“Then I’ll make you a sight worthy of a royal ball.”

Yuuri found himself grinning. “What do I do?”

“Just stand there. I’ve been practicing this, but it takes a little bit more magic than I usually use.” She stepped away and rubbed her hands together, closing her eyes with a look of intense concentration on her face. Then she reached her hands out toward Yuuri, did a funny little wave, and muttered some words that Yuuri didn’t understand.

For a few seconds, nothing happened and Yuuri worried that Minako made a mistake somehow. Then his clothes began to glow. His mouth fell open as a sparkling light enveloped his body, lingered for a few seconds, then disappeared. Yuuri ran to the mirror.

He had never worn anything that looked like this, never even imagined anything like this. The black fabric was tight, sheer in some places and sparkling in others, flaring out into a half-skirt that flashed red on the underside. Yuuri felt his face heating up at the sight of himself.

“Minako, I – I can’t wear this!” he exclaimed.

“Oh, yes you can!” Laughing in delight, Minako spun him around. “This turned out even better than I expected. You look amazing!”

“I don’t . . .” Yuuri turned back around, examining himself again in the mirror. He hardly looked like himself, but he supposed that was the point. Nobody would see him and guess that he was Yuuri Katsuki, quiet and plain commoner from Hasetsu. The outfit was striking, bold. Perhaps if he took off his glasses, wore the mask, and combed his hair back in the way that Victor had liked at the autumn festival last year . . . He ran his hands through his hair and pushed it back, then glanced back up at himself in the mirror through his lashes. He looked . . . alluring. Maybe even beautiful.

He swallowed hard. “Okay. I can do this.”

Minako cheered.

Within minutes, he was ready to go; his hair combed back, his mask tied over his face, and his nerves carefully clamped down inside his stomach. Minako went out to the street with him, where he waved to a carriage that would take him to the palace. Before it rolled to a stop in front of them, Minako put her hand on his shoulder.

“I’m really proud of you, Yuuri,” she murmured. “I want you to have fun tonight. You don’t even have to think about the prince.”

Yuuri knew that that would be impossible, but he smiled anyway and pulled her into a quick hug. “Thank you, Minako. For everything.”

The carriage stopped and Yuuri stepped forward. Nobody else was inside; everybody else had left to try to get an early glimpse of the prince.

“Oh!” Minako exclaimed, stopping him with a hand on his elbow. “I almost forgot. You have to be back here by midnight. That’s when the spell wears away and your clothes will return to normal.”

Yuuri laughed nervously, trying not to imagine what would have happened if she had forgotten to tell him. “Anything else important I need to know?”

“That’s it! It’s a quarter to ten now, so you should have about two hours there. Now go!”

On her order, Yuuri hurried into the carriage, shutting the door as it lurched into motion. He leaned out the window briefly to wave at her before settling into the seat.

Now that he was sitting still, he could think again and his nervousness began to creep up again. What if Victor somehow recognized him even through the mask and ordered him to leave? Or worse, what if he asked him to stay? Yuuri would hardly be able to say no, even if he weren’t cursed. There were too many things that could go wrong. Why had he thought this was a good idea?

 _I just want to see him_ , he reminded himself. Just a glimpse, from a distance, and he would be satisfied. He wouldn’t even have to go back for the other two nights of the festival. One look, and Yuuri could leave Victor behind and never look back.

All to soon, the carriage was rolling through the huge, iron gates. Yuuri pressed his face to the window, looking at the palace that was lit up with golden and white light. It looked like a dream. He remembered stepping through these gates with Victor two years ago and thinking that it looked impossibly huge and grand. He could never have guessed that he would return like this.

The carriage stopped at the front of the palace and Yuuri stepped out and walked toward the line extending from the front doors. Although he was late, there were still guests waiting to get inside. He wondered why it was taking so long until he drew closer and saw the reason for it.

Even from a distance, even without his glasses, he recognized that tall, straight-backed figure, that silver hair that glowed in the light streaming from the ballroom. Yuuri’s heart stopped. Victor stood at the front doors, greeting each guest individually. Yuuri would have to speak to him in order to get into the ball.

He almost turned around and walked away right there, but he stopped himself. Surely it couldn’t hurt. A bow and a short hello and it would be over. Perhaps he could even look directly into Victor’s eyes, see his smile . . .

No, he was getting away from himself. He would greet Victor in the proper way but nothing more, and then he would enjoy the rest of the ball without thinking about him. Taking a deep breath, Yuuri stepped in line behind the last person.

The line moved quickly, too quickly for Yuuri to fully collect himself. He felt turned around, shaken up. But with each step closer, he drank in the sight of Victor. He wore a sharply cut black suit, maybe even the same one that he had worn at the autumn festival last year. But it couldn’t be – in the past year, Victor had grown taller, his shoulders broader, his jaw stronger. Somehow, he looked more beautiful than Yuuri had ever seen him. His heart ached. Victor spoke to the woman he was greeting, and Yuuri’s eyes followed the shapes made by his lips. He was smiling, but it wasn’t the smile that Yuuri had grown used to. It didn’t quite reach his eyes. It was the same smile he had worn when they first met.

The line in front of Yuuri grew shorter. He could almost hear Victor’s voice now over the sound of music from inside the ballroom. Every inch of him screamed to run, but he couldn’t look away. Only two people in front of him. Victor chuckled at something the man said and Yuuri’s breath caught. One person in front of him. Yuuri felt numb all over.

Then Victor’s eyes were turning to him and Yuuri’s mind went blank. Victor offered him that smile, and Yuuri thought that to most people it would probably look real. Only he knew that it was forced. He was suddenly terrified that Victor would see right through him, but the mask was secure over his eyes and nose.

“Good evening, and welcome to the festival,” Victor said. The words sounded rehearsed, but the voice was achingly familiar. Yuuri quickly bowed, hoping Victor couldn’t see the flush on his face underneath the mask.

“Thank you,” he said, pitching his voice slightly lower than usual. When he straightened up, Victor’s gaze was already moving past him, but Yuuri was the last one in line and there was nobody to distract him now. Smiling still, Victor looked back at him.

“What’s your name?”

Yuuri silently cursed himself for not thinking of this earlier. How could he have known that Victor himself would ask this? Without thinking, he blurted out, “Eros.” His face burned again. “Eros . . . Chulanont.” Phichit’s last name would have to suffice, though Yuuri sent a silent apology to his friend.

“Chulanont? That sounds like a Prathet name.”

“Ah, yes, some of my family is from Prathet.” Yuuri’s mind raced. “Though I’ve never been there myself.”

“That’s a shame. It’s a beautiful kingdom. I just spent the past four months there and the people are so polite. Where are you from, then?”

“Alsbury,” Yuuri blurted out, naming the first town that came to mind, a place not far from Celestino’s School. “It’s to the east, near—”

“Near the giants’ village!” Victor looked genuinely interested now. “I’ve been in that area before. I’ve always found the giants to be such good hosts.”

“Yes, they are.”

“Have you been to the capital city before?”

“No, this is my first time.” Yuuri hoped he could keep track of all of these lies. “It’s bigger than I expected. And the ocean is beautiful.” Yuuri could already see Victor’s attention moving on, his smile polite but distant. Desperate not to lose him so quickly, he added, “Although I wish my dog were here. He would love playing in the ocean and chasing seagulls.”

For the first time, Victor’s smile reached his eyes. “You have a dog?”

“Y-yes.” Yuuri’s heart skipped a beat at the sight of that smile. “His name is, um . . .” He said the first name he could think of. “JJ.” Internally, he cringed.

“What a cute name! I love dogs. My poodle, Makkachin, wasn’t allowed to come tonight, and I miss him already! Though I don’t think everybody would like him knocking against their legs while they try to dance.”

Yuuri laughed, and Victor startled a little at the sound of it. Immediately, Yuuri tensed. Had he given himself away? But Victor shook his head a little and smiled.

“Speaking of which, would you care to join me for the next dance?”

Yuuri’s mouth fell open a little. “Truly?”

Victor bowed and offered a hand. “It would be my honor, Eros Chulanont.”

 _Say no_ , a voice in Yuuri’s head urged him. But how could he? Victor was probably just asking because Yuuri was the last person in line, not because he had any real interest in him. What harm could one dance do? Yuuri took Victor’s hand and let him lead the way into the ballroom.

A soft “Oh!” escaped his lips when they stepped through the doors. The ballroom was bigger than any room that Yuuri had ever seen – bigger than the chamber in Hasetsu’s town center, bigger than the dining hall at Celestino’s School. The high ceilings soared upward, supported by wide white pillars wound around with autumn decorations. The room was filled with golden light and beautiful music and more people than Yuuri could possibly count. It was the autumn festival of last year but bigger and grander than he could have even imagined something could be.

Victor led the way to the center of the dance floor, joining the couples already there. Yuuri could feel eyes watching them; Victor stood out from the crowd with his striking silver hair, and everyone was no doubt wondering who he was dancing with. He tried not to think about it as the music started and they began a fast-paced waltz.

The steps of the dance were familiar to Yuuri but he still concentrated on his movements, worried that in his flustered state he would make some mistake and embarrass himself in front of the entire royal court. Neither of them spoke and Yuuri wondered if Victor was regretting asking him to dance.

“Is something the matter?” Victor asked. In his voice was the same gentle concern that had once been so comforting. Yuuri realized that his shoulders had been tense; Victor must have felt it.

“I’m sorry. I think I’m a little nervous.”

“I can understand that. It’s a lot to take in, isn’t it?”

How did Victor understand him so perfectly, even when he didn’t know who he was? He huffed out a breath. “Yes, it is. I thought I would just come here and maybe mingle in the background, but now I’m dancing with the prince and everyone is watching me.”

“I hope I’m not making you uncomfortable.”

“No, of course not!” Yuuri smiled reassuringly. “It’s not you.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” Victor smiled, though it had gone back to the practiced, polite smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “And you don’t have to worry about anyone else. Don’t take your eyes off me.”

With the order, Yuuri’s gaze snapped to meet Victor’s. The tension bled from his shoulders almost immediately and he returned Victor’s smile a little hesitantly. Dancing with Victor felt like the most easy and natural thing in the world, once he stopped thinking about it too much, and he realized with a pang that he never wanted it to end.

Then the song finished and they bowed to each other, stepping apart. Yuuri’s heart sank, knowing that this meant that they had to say goodbye, but then Victor caught his wrist and stepped closer.

“I have to dance with other guests to be polite,” he murmured in Yuuri’s ear. “But don’t leave before I can dance with you again.”

“O-okay.” Yuuri’s stomach fluttered. Victor flashed him a smile before turning away and Yuuri walked to the edge of the dance floor in a daze. Had that just happened? Had he really just danced with Victor again, as if the past six months never happened?

He could feel the people around him staring, probably wondering who this boy was, but Yuuri ignored them, snagging a glass of champagne from a passing server and sipping it while he tried to get his pounding heart under control.

“Excuse me, sir, would you do me the honor of having the next dance?”

A hand was touching Yuuri’s elbow. He spun around to see a young woman in a pale green dress smiling at him expectantly.

“Ah, oh, no thank you,” he stammered. Her face fell marginally, and he quickly added, “I’m a little tired. Perhaps later.”

“Of course.” She curtseyed and glided away. Flustered again, Yuuri moved farther away from the dance floor, where the crowd was a little thinner.

It was easier to think here, with fewer bodies and voices pressing in around him. Yuuri wandered around, sipping his champagne and watching the other guests. Many of them had taken their masks off by now and Yuuri was all too aware that his was still tied over his face, but he couldn’t risk taking it off.

He sat at one of the chairs at the edge of the ballroom, where he could unobtrusively watch the rest of the party going on around him. From here, he could see Victor on the dance floor with a dark-haired woman. Victor smiled, but Yuuri couldn’t tell if it was genuine from this distance. His heart clenched.

Tearing his eyes away, he tried to watch some of the other couples, but his gaze kept returning to the tall, silver-haired figure in the center of it all. Victor played the role of the perfect prince, bowing and smiling and responding to everyone who spoke to him. He danced with the graceful ease of somebody who had been doing it all his life.

Yuuri wondered if Victor had forgotten about him – not his Eros character, but _him_. The thought of it made Yuuri’s eyes sting. As selfish as it was, he didn’t want Victor to forget him.

He also hoped that Victor hadn’t forgotten about Eros. The curse wouldn’t let him leave until Victor danced with him again, but if that didn’t happen before midnight, Yuuri’s clothing would transform back into the simple outfit he had been wearing before. He didn’t want to think what would happen then. As he sat there, the clock struck eleven.

Eventually, Yuuri stood up and began wandering again, deliberately not watching Victor. He found another glass of champagne and walked around the edge of the dance floor. A few other guests asked him to dance, but Yuuri politely turned them down, continuing his slow circle of the room.

Then a hand touched his shoulder and a familiar voice said, “I’m glad you stayed. Come dance with me.”

Before Yuuri knew it, he was back in Victor’s arms as music rose up around them. They stepped together easily and Yuuri couldn’t help but smile.

“How do you like the ball?” Victor asked, smiling back.

“It’s amazing,” Yuuri said truthfully. “I’ve never seen anything like it. I’m so happy that I can be here.”

Victor hummed, looking pleased. “I’m happy, too.”

They were silent for a few steps.

“You dance beautifully,” Victor noticed. “Where did you learn?”

“My . . . parents taught me.” Yet another lie. It felt sour in Yuuri’s mouth and he wished he had something honest he could tell Victor.

“They’re wonderful teachers. Be sure you tell them that.”

“I will.” Yuuri wondered what his parents would think if they knew what he was doing right now.

“Did you know that in the north they have very different dancing customs?” Victor started on a story from when he was in the northern kingdom about an awkward misunderstanding with a goblin, and about halfway through Yuuri realized he had heard it before from one of Victor’s letters. Nonetheless, he laughed when Victor finished. Seemingly encouraged by his response, Victor told another story, this one about Prathet, which Yuuri hadn’t heard before. They danced, one dance passing into another, as Victor spoke and Yuuri listened, drinking in the sound of his voice and the sparkle in his eyes.

After one story, Victor looked over Yuuri’s shoulder and suddenly tensed in Yuuri’s arms, his smile disappearing and his face growing stony.

“What’s wrong?” Yuuri asked, worry turning his chest cold.

“Ah . . .” Victor tore his eyes away from whatever he had seen and tried to put a smile back on his face. “It’s nothing. Just the relative of someone I used to know.”

Yuuri glanced over his shoulder, following where Victor had been looking, and caught sight of Mari. Her mask was off and she stood near the edge of the dance floor, talking with a group of other women. His insides curled. He had had no idea that Victor would recognize her on sight.

“Not a good memory?” he asked hesitantly.

Victor’s shook his head, frowning ever so slightly. “It was someone that I thought was . . . a friend. But I was wrong.”

Yuuri swallowed hard. _You weren’t wrong_ , he wanted to say, but he forced the words down. “He’s not here tonight, I assume?”

Victor’s smile was tight. “No.” He shook his head a little and fell silent.

Yuuri’s head spun. So Victor hadn’t forgotten him. The look on his face wasn’t one of hatred or anger, but instead a deep, heavy sorrow. Although the thought that he could still have this affect on Victor made Yuuri’s heart leap, he wished that it weren’t true. _Please, Victor, don’t carry this ache with you for long._

“I’ve probably bored you with all my stories,” Victor said, his smile returning. “I’m tired of hearing about me. Why don’t you tell me more about yourself?”

Yuuri laughed, hoping Victor’s couldn’t see his nervousness. His eyes caught the clock on the far wall and his stomach jolted. “I would, your highness, but I need to leave.” Ten minutes until midnight. He was cutting it close. “My parents will be worried if I’m out past midnight. They can be very protective.”

Victor looked disappointed, but he nodded. “I understand. Let me walk you outside.”

Taking his arm, Victor led the way to the ballroom’s front doors, which were open to let the crisp early autumn night air flow in. They walked down the steps and stopped near the row of carriages waiting for the departing guests.

“Are you staying in the city?” Victor asked.

“Just outside it, at an inn,” Yuuri said, relieved for this scrap of truth.

“One of these carriages can take you back.”

Yuuri nodded, then lowered himself into a bow. “Thank you for everything, your highness. I’ll always remember tonight.”

“Will you be back tomorrow?”

Hesitating, Yuuri looked up. He couldn’t miss the hopeful look on Victor’s face. How could he possibly refuse? “Yes, your highness.”

Victor’s smile broadened. “Good.” He took Yuuri’s hand and lifted it to his lips, kissing it. “And please, call me Victor.”

Yuuri’s mind flashed back to the first time they met and he swallowed hard. “Alright. Victor.”

“Goodnight, Eros. I look forward to tomorrow night.”

“Goodnight.”

Yuuri tore himself away and stepped into the closest carriage. As it rolled away from the palace, he watched Victor turn and disappear back into the golden light of the ballroom. His heart was pounding so loudly that he could hear it in his ears. The sound of music faded as the carriage left the palace behind, until all he could hear was his own heart and the voice inside his head whispering, _This was a mistake._

Perhaps it was, but Yuuri couldn’t stop himself from feeling happier than he had in months.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri's outfit for the ball is obviously [this beauty](https://i.kinja-img.com/gawker-media/image/upload/t_original/mjepj7v4zikmi44ka7uw.gif).
> 
> Also, I forgot to mention this earlier, but the name of the kingdom Phichit is from (Prathet) comes from another name for Thailand (I think? I'm no expert, so apologies if I got it completely wrong).
> 
> [feel free to come talk to me on tumblr!](https://wecalleverythinglove.tumblr.com/)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is, the penultimate chapter! A bit shorter than usual, but ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> My finals are done, I'm flying home tomorrow, and life is good!
> 
> Also I've just realized that I'm writing a fanfiction based on Ella Enchanted, which is essentially a fanfiction based on Cinderella. So. That's cool.

Yuuri paced up and down the tiny inn room.

“I shouldn’t go back.”

Minako groaned from where she lay on the bed, her hands covering her eyes. “Fine, but only if that means you’ll stop changing your mind about it.”

“But I told him I’d be there!”

“Yuuri, I sympathize with your problem, but this is getting really annoying,” Mari muttered, sitting on the windowsill with her chin in her hands.

“What if he finds out? What if he hates me?”

Minako sighed pointedly. “I’m this close to telling you to shut up.”

Yuuri glared at her. “You’re not helping!”

He had barely slept after getting back from the ball, especially when Mari got back and screamed that she had known all along that it was him dancing with the prince. Now she seemed tired of the subject, but Yuuri’s mind wouldn’t stop racing. The second ball was approaching fast, only a few hours away, and Yuuri still hadn’t decided whether or not he should go.

He sat on the foot of the bed, pushing Minako’s legs to the side, and tried to sort out his thoughts. Was it a bad idea to go to the ball tonight? Almost certainly. But was there a large part of him, not matter how much he fought against it, that longed to go anyway? Of course.

It all came down to one thing: he wanted to see Victor again. When it came to Victor, all of Yuuri’s practical thinking flew out the window. He was drawn to him, inextricably, undeniably, like a moth to a flame. No matter how dangerous it was, he couldn’t stop himself. It had never even been a choice, if he was honest with himself.

“Okay, fine.” He stood up again, accepting his fate. “I’ll go tonight.”

“Thank goodness!” Minako sat up straight. “I have the perfect outfit in mind.”

They helped Mari get ready first, since she had to arrive first to keep his identity a secret. She wore a dark purple dress today and let her hair down loose over her shoulders, which was such an unusual look for her that Yuuri hardly recognized her. She looked pleased when he told her this, even as she scoffed, “You’re one to talk, Yuuri!”

After Mari left to jump aboard a carriage, looking as excited as she had the night before, Minako turned to Yuuri with a gleam in her eyes. “Are you ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” Forcing calmness, he took off his glasses and folded them on the bedside table. Minako rubbed her hands together as he turned to face her. She muttered a few words just as she had the night before and waved a hand toward Yuuri, enveloping him once again in a shining light. He closed his eyes tightly until it faded away, then turned to face his reflection in the mirror.

The outfit was more understated than yesterday’s, with a dark blue jacket that sparkled subtly, turning sheer around Yuuri’s midriff and spiraling in an elegant pattern. Yuuri smiled and admired the way the cut of it made him look taller and slimmer than he was, like a whole new person.

“Minako, it’s perfect. Thank you.”

“Come on, come on, let’s get you to your prince!”

After combing his hair back and tying on his mask, Yuuri hurried out of the inn to hop into one of the carriages circling through the streets. He was late again, but that didn’t matter. All he cared was that he would soon see Victor again. He fidgeted in his seat all the way up to the palace, nerves and excitement mixing in his stomach as he plucked at his sleeves and checked over and over that his mask was secure. When the carriage stopped in front of the palace, he practically jumped out.

There was no reception line tonight; all of the guests were already inside, including Victor, Yuuri guessed. He stepped into the ballroom and sighed at the beauty of it – just as breathtaking as the first night. So many colors and voices, it was almost too much, but just shy of overwhelming. From the doorway, he couldn’t see that familiar flash of silver hair in the thick crowd. Yuuri scanned the couples on the dance floor but Victor wasn’t among them. Moving to the side of the ballroom, he craned his neck and looked around. Surely Victor was around here somewhere.

What was he doing? Yuuri mentally chided himself. Last night he had meant to avoid Victor, but now here he was actively searching for him. He knew that this could only end in heartbreak, so why did he want to find Victor? Shaking his head, he forced himself to stop looking. He would enjoy the ball with or without Victor – he wouldn’t let his experience be dependent on whether or not the prince noticed him.

For a while, he wandered through the crowd, sipping champagne and trying to look nonchalant. He couldn’t help it if he turned around hopefully every time he saw someone with pale hair out of the corner of his eye.

Fifteen minutes later, he finally caught sight of Victor. He wasn’t far away, walking through the crowd and talking to a man that Yuuri realized with a jolt was the king. Victor’s face looked mildly annoyed, but Yuuri doubted many others would notice this unless they knew Victor well – _Like I do_ , he thought with a tiny thrill of delight. For a second, he considered walking toward them, but then he noticed the scowl on the king’s face. Suddenly eager not to be noticed, he looked away, gazing up at the ceiling and swirling his champagne glass nervously.

“Eros! Is that you?”

Yuuri’s head snapped toward the sound of the familiar voice and he saw Victor waving to him, a smile now on his face. Weakly, Yuuri waved back. The king was looking at _him_. Victor gestured for him to come toward them and Yuuri obeyed.

Reaching them, he bowed low to the king. “Your majesty.” His hand lifted self-consciously to the mask covering his face. It felt inappropriate to hide himself in front of the king, but he could hardly take it off.

“Father, this is Eros Chulanont, from Alsbury in the east.”

“Chulanont?” The king’s voice was gruff, almost a growl. “That’s from Prathet, isn’t it? I don’t remember anyone from Prathet in the east.”

“Um, there aren’t many of us,” Yuuri said timidly. He had lied to the king! His throat felt dry.

“Do you like the festival?” the king asked, sounding like it wouldn’t matter to him either way.

“It’s magnificent.”

“Good. I hope my son is being a good host.”

“Um.” Yuuri glanced at Victor in time to catch him rolling his eyes. He pushed down a smile. “Yes, of course he is. He’s been very welcoming to me.”

“Hmm.” The king’s eyes narrowed slightly.

“Father, I’m going to dance with Eros now,” Victor said loudly, stepping toward Yuuri and taking his arm. “See what a good host I’m being?”

“Yes, go on.” The king waved a dismissive hand.

“It was an honor, your majesty.” Yuuri managed a quick bow before Victor steered him away toward the dance floor.

After a few steps, Victor muttered in his ear, “I suppose I should ask you. Would you like to dance with me?”

“Wha . . .? Oh, yes . . . I would.” Yuuri glanced back over his shoulder at the king, who was watching them with an indecipherable expression.

Victor frowned at him. “Is everything alright?”

“I just . . .” Yuuri laughed weakly and clung to Victor’s arm. “I just met the king!”

“Yes, and you did wonderfully.” Smiling, Victor pulled Yuuri toward him as a new song started. “And now you’re going to dance with the prince.”

Dancing felt as perfect and easy as it had last night and Yuuri couldn’t help but return Victor’s smile as they glided together over the dance floor, perfectly in unison.

“I’m sorry if my father seemed curt,” Victor said.

“It’s not a problem,” Yuuri said quickly. Then he hesitated for a few steps. “If you don’t mind me asking, what was that he was saying about . . .”

“About me being a good host?” Victor sighed. “He’s been pestering me about it ever since he arranged this festival. He wants me to be the perfect host these three nights to prove to him that I actually learned something about being a ruler while I was visiting the neighboring kingdoms. I think he’s still cross that I disappeared for all of last year’s autumn festival.”

The festival in Hasetsu, Yuuri realized with a shock. Victor was probably thinking about him – Yuuri – with no idea that Yuuri was currently in his arms. Guilt gnawed on his stomach – had the king really been angry that Victor ran off with him all night? That had been entirely Yuuri’s fault, yet another reason that Victor should be furious with him right now instead of dancing with him.

“Well, I think you’re doing a wonderful job,” he offered feebly.

“Hardly,” Victor sighed. “I only want to dance with you, but I have to be polite and dance with some of the other guests too.”

Yuuri’s insides flip-flopped. “If it’s any consolation, I only want to dance with you, too.” His face immediately flushed red. Why did he say that?

To his relief, Victor laughed. “That’s reassuring, at least. I’m glad I met you, Eros. It’s good to have a friend here.”

Yuuri wanted nothing more than to tear off his mask and say, _Everything I’ve told you is a lie. I’m not who you think I am. I’m sorry. I’m sorry._ He wanted to explain everything and apologize a thousand times over, but instead he swallowed his tongue and continued dancing in silence.

When the song ended, they bowed to each other and Yuuri expected Victor to step away, bid him goodnight, and find a new partner. Instead, he paused, a troubled look on his face. “Eros . . . there’s something I want to talk to you about.”

Yuuri’s stomach went cold. “What is it?”

Victor glanced around; the dance floor was crowded with other couples and Yuuri could see countless others watching them intently from the sides of the room. Being the prince attracted attention, which Victor clearly didn’t want. “Not here,” he said. “Come with me.”

He took Yuuri’s hand and led him off the dance floor, through the staring crowd, and to the edge of the ballroom. A side door brought them into a short hallway, which branched off onto a balcony facing the ocean. The lights of the city sparkled below them, the stars above, and the moon glinted on the smooth surface of the sea. Yuuri sighed at the beauty of the scene in front of him, leaning against the edge of the balcony while Victor closed the glass doors to deter anyone who might try to eavesdrop.

“Eros,” Victor said, and Yuuri turned back to him with nervousness churning up in his stomach. Victor’s face was serious; the only other time Yuuri had seen this look was when Victor told him he would be leaving for a year. Whatever he wanted to talk about, it couldn’t be good.

“What is it?” he asked, forcing his voice to remain steady.

Victor sighed and moved to stand beside him, leaning against the railing as well and looking out over the sea. A chill breeze ruffled his pale hair. “I want to tell you this because I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.”

“Yes?”

“Eros, I don’t intend to ever marry.”

Yuuri’s breath pushed out of his lungs in a short gust. “Oh.”

“I know that many expect me to choose a partner at these balls, my father included, but that is not my intent. I don’t want you to have any false hopes, that’s all. I won’t be proposing to you, or anyone else, at the end of this festival. I’m sorry if this disappoints you.”

“I didn’t want—” Yuuri’s face flushed. “I never expected that of you. I thought I would be lucky to catch a glimpse of you – I couldn’t have imagined that I would actually meet you. Please, don’t apologize for anything.”

Victor smiled, looking almost relieved. “Thank you for understanding.”

Yuuri nodded, looking back out to the water. So the rumors of Victor choosing someone to marry at this festival were only rumors. He couldn’t decide how he felt. Elation battled with disappointment, overshadowed by a tremendous sense of relief along with anger at himself. He wanted Victor to be happy, so why couldn’t he wish for Victor to move on from him with somebody else? His head still spinning, he said, “May I ask why?”

“Why?”

“Why you don’t intend to marry.”

“Ah.” A rueful smile crossed Victor’s lips. “I . . . made a mistake once. I don’t intend to make it again.”

Yuuri was silent, waiting for Victor to say more if he wanted, his heart pounding. He knew exactly what Victor was referring to, but he wanted to hear it from Victor’s own mouth.

“There was a boy.” Victor’s voice was barely above a whisper. “He was . . . perfect. Or, at least, so I thought. But I was wrong. He was not the person I supposed him to be.”

“I’m sorry,” Yuuri whispered. He wished he could offer more than empty words of consolation from a virtual stranger – he wished Victor could know how deeply he felt them. _I’m sorry. I’m sorry._

“It’s not your fault,” Victor said, and Yuuri almost laughed. “It’s in the past. But I won’t let myself make that mistake again.”

“I understand.” Yuuri watched a light blink from some distant ship out on the ocean. His insides twisted – Victor had thought he was perfect. But he had been wrong, even if the reason for it was a lie. Yuuri was, after all, not the person that Victor thought he was, that Victor wanted him to be. He had broken Victor’s heart and he could never forgive himself for that.

When he sent that letter, he had been so sure that Victor’s heart would mend in no time at all. He had dismissed Victor’s feelings for him as shallow and fleeting. How could he have been so stupid? Victor had offered his heart to Yuuri, begged to marry him, even said he would give up his throne to be with him, and Yuuri had assumed that he was mistaken? He hadn’t wanted to accept how much he would hurt Victor, so he created a selfish justification to protect himself. But here was the truth – Victor once loved him like he had never loved anyone, but Yuuri tore him to pieces and now Victor didn’t think he could love like that again. And it was entirely Yuuri’s fault.

“We can still be friends, though,” Victor said, cutting through Yuuri’s thoughts. “Friendship can be as long lasting as any marriage. I’d like that, would you?”

Yuuri looked over to see Victor smiling at him in that fond, beautiful way, and felt his heart ache. _I don’t deserve you_ , he thought. “I’d like that too,” he managed.

“People will talk, though,” Victor sighed. “They’ve noticed that I like you. I’m sorry if anyone bothers you because of it.”

“It’s a small price to pay. When I’m not with you, I blend in with everyone else. Just another nobody wearing a mask.”

“Why . . .” Victor started, and Yuuri froze. This was it – Victor was going to ask him to take off the mask and it would be over, this brief moment of happiness snatched out from under his feet. But Victor trailed off and shook his head, smiling. “I don’t need to know. Your privacy is yours.”

Too dazed to speak, Yuuri could only nod.

“And you could never blend in.” Victor’s voice went soft. “Haven’t you noticed? People stare at you – you’re stunning.”

Yuuri couldn’t think. He shook his head quickly. “They only stare because I’ve danced with you.”

Victor laughed, looking at him with a teasing glint in his eye. “Don’t sell yourself short, Eros. Everybody at this ball knows you’re the most beautiful one here tonight.”

Blushing furiously, Yuuri stammered, “Th-that’s not – I mean, I – I—”

Victor’s smile widened. “You don’t have to try to deny it. Come on, let’s get back to the ballroom before anyone worries about our absence.”

Flustered and blushing to the tips of his ears, Yuuri let himself be led off the balcony and back to the ballroom, where the ball continued in full swing. He didn’t know what to say after Victor’s compliments, but to his relief Victor just smiled at him and brought him to the dance floor. They danced together for a while, until Victor apologized and said he had to be a good host and attend to the other guests. While Victor kept dancing, Yuuri wandered around the ballroom and avoided the gazes of others. Now that Victor had pointed it out, he noticed that people did stare at him, though it couldn’t possibly be for the reason that Victor claimed. After all, Victor hadn’t even seen his face – how could he think that Yuuri was beautiful?

A quarter before midnight, Victor returned to him in time for one last dance.

“Arrive late and leave early, that’s what you do, is it?” Victor laughed when Yuuri told him he had to leave soon. “Very well. But I hope you’ll stay later tomorrow night. I would hate to say goodbye to you sooner than I have to.”

“I’ll try,” Yuuri said, his stomach sinking as he remembered that tomorrow would be their last night together, perhaps forever. When else would he have the chance to be this close to Victor again?

At the end of the dance, Victor walked him outside and bid him farewell. As he bent to kiss Yuuri’s hand again, the golden light from the ballroom fell on his face and made his hair glow and Yuuri’s heart pinched. _I still love you_ , he thought. _I always will._

“Goodnight, Eros.”

Yuuri swallowed hard. “Goodnight, Victor.”

 

* * *

 

Later that night, after Yuuri had transformed back into his ordinary self, Mari burst into the room of the inn.

“Yuuri!” she exclaimed. “You have to tell me what happened!”

Minako, half asleep on the bed, groaned and threw a pillow at Mari, who caught it and threw it at Yuuri. He had been lying on his back, much to tense to fall asleep, but now he sat up and straightened his glasses.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“Everyone saw the mysterious stranger – yes, _you_ – disappear with the prince for ten minutes. Now there are rumors that he proposed! Everyone is freaking out. So? What happened?”

Interested now, Minako sat up as well, rubbing her eyes.

“He didn’t propose,” Yuuri said calmly. “I don’t know where you heard that but it’s not true.”

“Well?” Mari plopped on the floor beside him, her skirt fanning out around her. “What did he talk to you about? Why all the secrecy?”

“He actually told me that he wasn’t ever going to marry.”

Mari’s mouth fell open. “He said that? To you?”

Yuuri nodded. “He didn’t want me to get the wrong idea.”

A look of understanding crossed Mari’s face. “Did he say why?”

“It’s because of me. Real me, not fake me.” Yuuri looked down at his lap. “I didn’t realize . . . I truly thought he would have forgotten me by now.”

“Yuuri.” Minako stood up and crossed the room to kneel beside him. “He was in love with you, and you broke his heart. You don’t forget that easily.”

Yuuri winced. “I know that now. You don’t have to remind me.” He shook his head. “It’s just . . . why me? Of all the people for him to fall in love with. I’m . . .” He remembered Yurio’s words from a year ago. “A small town nobody. How could he possibly love someone like me?”

“Do you truly think so little of yourself that you don’t believe you’re worthy of his love?” Minako’s voice was gentle. “He didn’t love you for what you are, Yuuri. He loved you for who you are.”

Yuuri chewed on his bottom lip. “I can’t let myself think about that. It’s too late now, anyway.”

“It doesn’t have to be.” Minako narrowed her eyes are him. “You don’t have to give up. If you can still hurt him like this, there must still be a part of him that loves you. You could tell him, you know, about the curse. Like you did with Phichit. You could still make this work.”

“I can’t,” Yuuri whispered. “Don’t you understand? I can’t do that to him, and I can’t endanger him with this curse. It’s too much – I can’t ask him to make sacrifices for my sake.”

“Maybe that’s something you should let him decide.”

Yuuri looked up. “Minako, I—”

“I know. You can’t.” She straightened up and stretched her arms over her head. “You’re still going tomorrow night, aren’t you?”

He hesitated for only a second. “Yes. One last time.”

 

* * *

 

“Eros!”

Yuuri looked up as he stepped out of the carriage to see Victor hurrying toward him. His mouth fell open and he quickly reached up to make sure that his mask tight over his face.

“I thought I’d find you here.” Victor was practically beaming. “Arriving late as usual. Oh, you look amazing!”

 _I don’t_ , Yuuri almost said, automatically, but he saw the sincerity on Victor’s face and swallowed the words. “Thank you.” He wore a blue jacket with gold linings, a black waistcoat, and long black gloves. Minako had disappeared for most of the morning to return with the clothes folded inside a shopping bag. She had used a little magic to make sure it fit correctly, but she said it was small enough that it would last beyond midnight.

“I insist on staying with you for as much of the evening as I can,” Victor said, taking his arm and leading him up the steps and into the ballroom. “To hell with being a good host. But don’t tell my father I said that.”

Yuuri laughed as they began to dance. Victor’s happiness at seeing him was contagious and he found himself smiling more than he had in months. For the first few dances, Victor chattered on about silly, meaningless things, like the hairstyles of other guests and the décor in the ballroom. Victor looked delighted whenever he got Yuuri to laugh, which only made Yuuri smile more.

They stopped talking with a faster song that put them both out of breath for a few minutes. Glancing around, Yuuri noticed how many people were watching them. He should be used to it by now, after two nights of dancing with Victor, but he doubted it would ever feel normal. The constant scrutiny, waiting for him to make a mistake. Is this what it would have been like if Yuuri had married Victor? Eyes always watching them for a moment of weakness to take advantage of them? Yuuri had been right in not marrying him. The curse would put both of them in constant danger, and nothing was worth endangering Victor.

Victor noticed Yuuri’s sudden quietness and followed his lead, not restarting the conversation. With each song that they danced, Yuuri could feel the seconds tick by, counting down the hours that he had left with Victor, growing smaller and smaller. He wanted to say something, take advantage of their short time together, but now all he could think about was the time slipping away.

“Eros, is something the matter?” Victor asked at last, when the silence grew too long to ignore.

Yuuri winced. “I’m sorry.” At least he could be honest about this. “I wish tonight didn’t have to end.”

Victor gave a low laugh. “It doesn’t have to. We can still be friends, you know, even from a distance. We can write to each other.”

Yuuri’s stomach lurched. He couldn’t go back to that, continuing to hide himself from Victor. Which meant he would have to hurt him all over again. Dropping his eyes, he murmured, “I suppose we can.”

“In the meantime, we’ll take advantage of our time together while we still can. Will you stay later tonight?”

“Yes, I will.” Yuuri smiled.

“Good. Then I’ll save the last dance for you.”

They talked easily again after that. Victor told him more about the city and the palace and his everyday life here. Some of it Yuuri had already heard from his letters, but he loved hearing it from Victor’s mouth nonetheless. He listened and delighted in every word, taking in the sound of his voice and the shape of his mouth as it was water and he was stuck in a desert. When Victor asked about him, he hedged, gave vague answers, and always turned the conversation back around to Victor. His heart leapt when Victor told him about the unicorn Katsudon, who Chris had been training while Victor was away. In a moment of boldness, Yuuri said, “That’s an unusual name.”

“Yes, he was named after a dish that I’ve never eaten.” A small, distant smile crossed Victor’s face and he fell silent for a few moments.

Yuuri asked about Makkachin and learned that the poodle was growing grey hairs around his muzzle but still had as much energy as ever. Victor wished Yuuri could meet him, but he suspected his father would be angry if he tried to slip away from the ball again.

Eventually, Victor sighed and admitted that he had to dance with some of the other guests, but he promised to come back to Yuuri as soon as he had the chance. Yuuri wandered to the edge of the ballroom, where he sat at one of the chairs along the wall and watched the ball around him.

For the next hour, Victor returned to him every few songs to dance the next one with him before returning to the other guests. In the time that they weren’t dancing together, Yuuri either sat along the wall or wandered among the other guests. He even accepted a few other invitations to dance, but none of his other partners were nearly as interesting as Victor. At one point, he found himself dancing near Victor with a dark haired girl who looked so starstruck she couldn’t speak. Victor flashed him a grin and Yuuri’s insides flipped around.

“Don’t you get tired of dancing all night?” Yuuri asked when they were together again. “I haven’t been dancing half as much as you and I’m exhausted.”

“Plenty of practice and, of course, good company makes it bearable,” Victor said. “I’m hurt that you don’t find my presence invigorating.”

Yuuri flushed. “No, that’s not what I—”

Victor laughed. “I’m teasing you. I promise, I’m every bit as tired as you are. But I have a lot of experience hiding it.”

That hardly sounded comfortable to Yuuri. “It’s not easy being a prince, is it?” Immediately, he wished he could take the words back. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have presumed . . .”

“No, you’re right.” Victor looked thoughtful. “It’s not easy, but it’s who I am. It’s my duty and my birthright, so I must make of it what I can.”

The clock struck midnight while Victor was entertaining other guests. Yuuri held his breath through its chimes, half expecting the alternations on his outfit to shimmer and disappear, despite Minako’s assurances that they wouldn’t. To his relief, it stayed exactly the same.

He wandered over to the buffet table along the back wall, which was stacked high with rich, fancy foods. The first two nights his stomach had been too busy churning with nerves to feel empty, but now it grumbled a little, so he began to pile foods onto a plate. Barely any of them were recognizable to him – he was used to the simple, homely foods served at the onsen, not these extravagant palace morsels – so he simply took whatever looked interesting and delicious.

While he was loading a plate with samples of fine cheese, a voice behind him snapped, “Hey you! Mask boy!”

Yuuri paused, looking up. Nobody nearby was wearing a mask – in fact, he was one of the only ones left in the ballroom with his face still covered. Slowly he turned around to find himself face to face with Victor’s cousin Yurio.

The boy had grown a bit taller, though he was still small and slight. His blonde hair now hung down to his chin. His arms were crossed over his chest and his face sported its usual scowl.

“Good evening.” Setting his plate down, Yuuri bowed.

“So you’re Victor’s latest fixation, hmm?” Yurio looked him up and down. “You don’t look like much to me.”

Yuuri had come to expect Yurio’s blunt, harsh comments, so he tried not to let them settle beneath his skin. “My apologies, your grace,” he said calmly.

“Look.” Yurio stepped toward him, his voice lowering to a growl even as he had to look up at Yuuri. “I don’t know what your intentions with Victor are, but if you hurt him I will personally find you and hurt you back.”

Yuuri’s eyes widened. “I – what?”

“He’s already been through enough, okay?” Yurio snapped. “He doesn’t deserve someone coming along and playing with his heart again. The king thinks he’s moved on, but he’s not ready to love anyone again. Don’t think you can replace Katsudon boy just because Victor seems interested in you now.”

Yuuri’s face flamed red beneath the mask. “I had no such expectations. The prince has already made it clear that he doesn’t intend to marry.”

“Good.” Yurio huffed out a breath. “You don’t deserve him, anyway.”

Yuuri bowed his head. “I know that.”

“And why do you wear that stupid mask? Nobody else here is wearing theirs still. Is your face that ugly? Do you have a pig nose or something?”

Yuuri tensed. “I – I –”

A hand landed on his shoulder. “Yuri, stop bothering my guest.”

Yuuri’s breath froze in his lungs at the sound of his name on Victor’s tongue, even if he was speaking to somebody else. He turned to see Victor frowning at his cousin, who scowled back fiercely.

“Whatever! You’re both stupid!” Yurio stalked away, his hands clenched into fists.

Laughing a little, Victor took Yuuri’s hand. “Come on, it’s the last dance of the night.”

“Already?” Yuuri’s stomach sank. Victor led him back to the dance floor as the music started, a slow, sorrowful tune the reflected exactly how Yuuri felt. They danced close together, chest to chest, Victor’s breath warm against Yuuri’s ear.

“I hope my cousin wasn’t harassing you. He can be such a child sometimes.”

“It was no trouble. He was only telling me what you told me yesterday.”

“I see.” Victor fell silent.

“I’m . . .” Yuuri’s eyes stung. He wished he could offer more than this, tell Victor how he really felt. “I’m sorry that you got hurt.”

“What?” Victor sounded surprised. “Why are you sorry?”

“You don’t deserve that,” Yuuri murmured, dropping his forehead onto Victor’s shoulder. When he closed his eyes, a tear slid down his cheek.

“You don’t have to apologize for my mistake. I trusted the wrong person and got hurt because of it. It’s as simple as that.”

 _No it isn’t_ , Yuuri thought. _It’s not your fault, I promise. It’s mine_.

“I have to admit, I’m a little curious,” Victor said after a pause.

“Curious?” Yuuri lifted his head up, hoping Victor wouldn’t see the wet track the tear had left down his cheek.

“Why you wear the mask.” Victor smiled as Yuuri’s stomach went cold. “You’re such a lovely person, Eros, it’s a shame to hide any part of your beauty from the world.”

Yuuri’s tongue felt frozen. “V-Victor, I—”

Apparently mistaking his hesitation for modesty, Victor raised his eyebrows. “There’s no need to be shy about it. And if you wear the mask to cover up some birth deformity, I promise that I won’t think of you any differently. I do want to see your face at least once before we part.”

“I’m not—”

“What do you say?” Victor leaned closer and whispered in his ear. “Show me your face, Eros. I want to see you.”

An order. Yuuri’s numb, shaking fingers lifted toward the ribbon tying the mask to his face before he could stop them. Tears welled up in his eyes. “Victor, please don’t ask me to do this.”

Hearing the fear in his voice, Victor took a surprised step away. He saw the tears in Yuuri’s eyes and opened his mouth, perhaps to take back the order, but it was already too late. The ribbon came undone and Yuuri’s mask fell to the floor.

For a few heartbeats, neither of them moved. The song ended and applause rose up around them, marking the end of the ball, but the two of them were frozen with their eyes locked onto each other. A hundred different emotions flashed over Victor’s face all at once – joy, anger, sorrow, confusion. Tears spilled onto Yuuri’s cheeks. He couldn’t breathe.

“Yuuri,” Victor whispered.

The sound of his voice unfroze Yuuri, who spun around without a word and fled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Yuuri's outfit for the second ball](https://68.media.tumblr.com/9d2395d1d067e71d1f8ae64bdc38dea4/tumblr_inline_og2v9bnDnD1t9ux7b_540.gif) and [his outfit for the third ball.](https://cdn.shopify.com/s/files/1/0410/1053/files/tumblr_oiju396Tt01rb4jbto1_540_480x480.gif?v=1483855945)
> 
> The rest of this fic has already been written, so I don't think it will be much of a wait!
> 
> That said, [you can still yell at me on tumblr](http://wecalleverythinglove.tumblr.com/) if you want.
> 
> OH I nearly forgot! I recently hit 2k followers on my tumblr, which is just incredible! So thank you to everyone!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are at last, the final chapter! I hope I've gotten it right.  
> 
> 
> After this, there will be a short epilogue.

Yuuri could hear shouts rise up around him as he pushed through the crowd, but nobody called out for him to stop so he kept running. Tears blurred his eyes and he swept them away with the back of his hand. Out of the ballroom and down to the row of carriages waiting outside. He threw open the door of one and gasped out the name of the inn that he was staying to the driver. “Quickly!” he added.

The carriage lurched into motion as Yuuri collapsed on the seat, clutching his chest and trying to suppress his sobs. He couldn’t breathe – he couldn’t think. He rocked back and forth in his seat, shaking, terrified, for the duration of the short carriage ride. What could he do? He had lied to Victor again, broken his heart again. Part of him had always known that this would end badly, but he couldn’t have imagined _how_ badly. He had to leave and get as far away from here as possible. Perhaps even leave the kingdom – what if Victor came looking for him at the onsen? He could go to Prathet and stay with Phichit’s family. But what if Victor found him there too? He had already met Phichit once before, and it couldn’t be too difficult to track him down again. Yuuri didn’t exactly have many friends to run to.

When the carriage stopped in front of the inn, Yuuri stumbled out and ran up the stairs, bursting into the room where Minako and Mari were preparing to go to sleep. They looked up, took in his tear-stained face, and suddenly looked wide awake.

“He found out,” Yuuri gasped. “He knows it’s me.”

Minako stood up and began throwing her things into her bag. “Then we need to leave this city. We’ll find the first coach back to Hasetsu.”

Yuuri’s shaking legs gave out and he fell to his knees. “What do I do?” he moaned.

Minako dropped down in front of him and took his shoulders, grounding him. “Change out of your clothes and pack your things.”

For the first time in his life, Yuuri was glad to be given an order. He nodded, swallowed his tears, and did as he was told without thinking. He ran a hand through his combed hair, returning it to its normal messy state, and put on his glasses. None of them spoke as they packed their trunks. Mari kept throwing Yuuri glances filled with concern, which he tried to ignore. He had finally managed to stop crying but he felt numb all over. His body moved of its own accord under the curse’s power.

Then the sound of hooves on the cobblestones outside the inn reached their ears, and shouting voices cut through the quiet night. Yuuri froze, listening. Movement downstairs, and more voices. Victor’s voice, rising above the rest: “I know he’s here, this is where his carriage driver said he brought him! Gather everyone in the inn.”

Yuuri’s wide eyes found Minako’s. He tried to form words, a silent plea, but nothing came out. She strode toward him and took his hands.

“Yuuri,” she murmured. “Yuuri, breathe.”

He did as he was told, pulling air in and pushing it out, concentrating only on that task for a few seconds. His heart still raced. Footsteps climbed up the stairs of the inn and someone began knocking on the doors down the hall. “I can’t . . .” His breathing stuttered again; his voice was a strangled whisper. “I can’t . . .”

“I think it’s time to stop hiding.” Minako sounded extraordinarily calm. “You have to go to him.”

He stared at her wide-eyed, silently begging her to take her words back. Hiding was all he had left against breaking Victor’s heart, against breaking his own heart. Seeing him again would mean hurting them both. How could Minako expect him to do that?

A knock sounded on the door and Yuuri jumped. Mari opened it to the sleepy looking innkeeper, who told them, “The prince has commanded that everyone gather downstairs.”

“Yes, alright,” Mari said evenly. She turned back to face Yuuri, her face solemn. “Yuuri, let’s go.”

Stiffly, his legs moved to follow her out of the room. His heart was pounding so loudly that he couldn’t think. He wanted to plan the perfect thing to say when he saw Victor, to soften the blow and make it easier to let him go, but his mind came up blank. The inn’s other guests were stumbling out of their rooms, unhappy with being woken in the middle of the night, and Minako, Mari, and Yuuri joined them through the hallway and down the stairs.

Victor was in the entrance room of the inn, pacing up and down, a handful of palace guards behind him. He looked agitated, his hair windswept and wild like he had ridden quickly to get here. The mask that Yuuri had dropped in the ballroom was clutched in one hand. He looked up at the group coming down the stairs and Yuuri saw the exact moment that Victor caught sight of him. He frozen in place and his eyes widened, then his face flooded with relief.

He rushed toward him, reaching him as Yuuri got to the bottom of the stairs, dropping the mask to take his hands and pull him away from the rest of the group. Yuuri bowed his head so he wouldn’t have to look at the overjoyed look on his face.

“Yuuri.” Victor breathed his name like a prayer, like it was the most precious thing he had ever spoken. “It really is you. I thought you were . . . I knew it had to be a trick, you would never . . . And it was you . . . I thought . . .” Realizing that he was rambling, Victor sucked in a short breath. “I thought I would never see you again.”

Yuuri could hardly breathe. Victor must have felt his hands shaking because he squeezed them and brought them close to his heart.

“You’re frightened,” he murmured, his voice dropping low. “Why are you frightened, Yuuri?”

Yuuri only trembled harder. How could Victor ask him that – ask him anything – care for him at all after what Yuuri did to him? “I can’t say,” he whispered, and he truly couldn’t. His breath caught on a choked down sob; he could hardly speak even if he wanted to. Anticipating what was about to happen, he squeezed his eyes shut. The happiness would vanish from Victor’s face and Yuuri would once again be to blame for hurting him. The air froze in his lungs at the thought of it.

“Yuuri, tell me the truth.” Victor’s face was close to Yuuri’s, his words quiet but urgent. “Tell me that letter was a lie.”

He could hardly resist the order. “It was,” he whispered.

“It was,” Victor repeated, the relief obvious in his voice. “Then why . . .? No, that’s not important right now. These months have been torture – I need to know. Tell me if you love me too.”

The words rose effortlessly to Yuuri’s tongue at the order. “I do.” He couldn’t even begin to try holding them back – they sprang out without a thought, the only true thing he was certain of anymore. Exhaling shakily, he looked up to see joy spread across Victor’s face. He had never seen anything so beautiful and awful.

“Then marry me,” Victor said. He was smiling wildly, his hair disheveled, his eyes bright with unshed tears. Yuuri had never seen him cry before. Squeezing his hands so tightly it almost hurt, Victor leaned forward until they were inches apart. “Marry me, Yuuri. You’re the only one I can be happy with.”

Yuuri felt tears on his cheeks; he hadn’t noticed he had started to cry again. He opened his mouth to speak the words of assent that would bring happiness to Victor’s eyes. It would be so easy.

An image rose to his mind: Victor dead on the floor, a dagger in his back, blood on Yuuri’s hands; a faceless enemy who had somehow learned Yuuri’s secret, laughing. Victor, dead because of Yuuri. The kingdom descended into chaos. And Yuuri to blame for all of it. He clamped his mouth shut. Marrying Victor would destroy him – he was certain of it. He had to protect Victor at whatever cost. Protect Victor, even if it meant hurting him.

The words burned at his mouth but he bit his tongue and squeezed his eyes shut, swaying away from Victor. _Don’t speak!_ he screamed at himself. He couldn’t trust whatever came out of his mouth in case it was an affirmation. It was beginning to hurt as the curse pulled at him. His head spun; he had never resisted for this long before.

“Say you’ll marry me,” Victor whispered again.

Did he even realize he was giving an order? It should have been simple – a yes or no. Yuuri wanted nothing more than to scream _yes_ a thousand times. Instead, he tore his hands away from Victor to clap them over his mouth as a strangled choking sound escaped, an answer that he refused to let out. He shook his head vehemently. The pain was building, worse than anything he had ever felt, a burning sensation deep inside him. Words tore at his throat. _Yes, yes, yes. I love you. I’ll marry you._ They filled him up head to toe. He wanted to say it with every inch of him; he wanted to scream it to the world. Tears squeezed from his eyes and rolled down his cheeks as he shook his head harder.

Pulling himself away from Victor, he sank to his knees and clutched his head. Nothing had ever hurt like this. The curse was bursting him open, screaming through his blood and crackling in his bones. He couldn’t let it touch Victor. _I won’t marry you. I won’t marry you._ It became a mantra in his head. He repeated it to himself over and over to drown out the _yes_ on the tip of his tongue. When he tried to force the words out, they stuck in his throat, the curse shoving them down. Marry Victor and kill him. He couldn’t do something as selfish as that. He bit down on his tongue so hard that he tasted blood.

A hand landed on his shoulder – Victor’s. What must he think of him? How could he still love him after how Yuuri hurt him? But Yuuri barely felt the weight of his hand as he hunched down, shaking. He burrowed within himself, refusing to speak. He thought of the years he spent in the onsen, too terrified to face the dangerous world outside. He thought of the teachers at school who had made his life so miserable. Humiliation upon humiliation at the whim of others. The ogres’ gruff voices: “ _We don’t need any of that to make it do what we want. It would chop off its own head if we told it to.”_ JJ laughing and saying, _“If you really want it gone, you’ll get rid of it yourself!”_ Yuuri selfishly rejecting Victor’s love to protect himself.

He had already hurt Victor once because of the curse – how could he do it all over again?

_Say yes. Say yes. Say yes. Obey._

Victor dead at Yuuri’s feet. Betrayal on his face. Yuuri’s fault. _No._ The curse had taken so much from him, but not him. Never him.

He could barely breathe through the sobs that racked his body. His mouth tasted like blood from biting his tongue. He moved his hand to wipe his face and his mouth opened, the words ready to come out, but he clamped a hand over them again. The yes died on his tongue.

He remembered Victor in the cemetery in Hasetsu, letting him grieve after Vicchan’s death, understanding his pain. Victor’s open delight at showing him the capital city, Makkachin bounding along at his side. Victor saving him from ogres. Victor pulling him away from the autumn festival, two glasses of champagne in his hand. Victor leaning against a balcony railing, wind in his hair, telling him that he would never marry. Victor’s love and Victor’s heartbreak. He was too good, too beautiful – Yuuri could hardly bear it. One last time, he would have to hurt Victor before he was finally safe.

Pulling deep within himself, he let his thoughts crystallize on one single resolution: _I have to save Victor._ A simple, easy truth; the only thing he had left. It was a relief to know that, despite anything else, he was absolutely, bones-deep certain of this. For a few moments, he settled on that thought, building it stronger within himself. It filled him up until it was the only thing he could think. _Save Victor. Save Victor._

Something inside him broke.

“ _NO!_ ” he screamed.

Victor lifted his hand away as Yuuri jumped to his feet, brushing away his tears. Looking worried, Victor straightened up as well. “Yuuri?”

“I won’t marry you!” The words came out easily and Yuuri laughed, delighted. “I won’t do it! I won’t!” He spun around to the other guests of the inn, who were watching them with a mix of confusion and dismay, and threw his arms out, shouting, “I won’t marry the prince!” He laughed again, even as tears streamed down his face. “Nobody can make me!”

“Who would make you?” Victor asked, alarmed.

“Nobody! It doesn’t matter who. I won’t do it! I won’t!” Whirling around to face him again, Yuuri seized Victor’s shoulders and smiled so broadly that he thought his face would split. “I love you and I won’t marry you!” He threw his arms around Victor and kissed him, kissed his perfect lips, loving him more than he ever had in his life. Victor was safe. The curse couldn’t touch him; nobody could hurt him now.

Victor pulled back, smiling slowly despite himself, his cheeks flushed and his eyes bright. He was so beautiful, his expression caught between puzzled and delighted. Yuuri’s heart ached. “I’m confused. If you love me, why won’t you marry me?”

“I’m cursed,” Yuuri explained happily. Had somebody told him to tell Victor? He had never said those words aloud to anyone but Phichit, and then only because Minako allowed him. He couldn’t think. He repeated the only thing he was certain of. “I won’t marry you.”

Victor had given him an order. Why wasn’t the curse forcing him to obey? There was no painful pull, no urge to do as he was told. Instead, he felt lighter, and more whole than he could remember ever feeling. Could it mean . . .?

“I won’t . . . I won’t . . .” Letting go of Victor, he stumbled back a step. He looked around and spotted Minako watching from the stairs. She nodded to him, smiling through the tears that filled her eyes. Spinning back around to face Victor, Yuuri demanded, “Give me an order.”

Smiling, Victor said, “Kiss me.”

“No!” Yuuri laughed. No force beyond his control compelled him to obey. The laugh turned into a sob and he pressed a hand over his mouth as new tears fell from his eyes. He sank to his knees. Victor knelt with him, keeping a hand on his back, steadying him.

Yuuri cried without anything holding him back. Until this moment, he hadn’t had the strength to break the curse himself, but Victor was enough. Not the ogres, not the teachers, not JJ’s mocking voice. Only this. He felt fuller than he ever had in his life. The curse that hung over him since his birth was gone. Nothing holding him back. Just Yuuri, nothing else, finally free.

He stayed on his knees until the tears stopped. When they did, he sat still for a few moments, breathing. Victor’s thumb rubbed tiny circles on his back. Yuuri closed his eyes and lifted his hand up to wipe away his tears. Then, taking a deep breath, he straightened up. Victor did the same, watching him expectantly as they stood face to face.

“Just then, I was too young to marry,” Yuuri said, his voice steady. A smile started on Victor’s lips. “But now I’m the perfect age. I am more ready than I have ever been in all my life. In fact, I beg you to marry me, Victor. Please, please, let me marry you.”

Victor responded by kissing him so enthusiastically that he lifted Yuuri off his feet and spun him around. He kissed him so hard that Yuuri couldn’t breathe. When Victor set him down again and pulled away, Yuuri couldn’t stop the smile that broke across his face. “Yes,” Victor whispered, leaning his forehead against Yuuri’s. “Yes, yes, yes. I’ll say it a thousand times. I’ll say it every day for the rest of our lives.”

Yuuri kissed him again, putting his arms around him and holding him. He loved him with every inch of him, down to his toes, to the tips of his fingers. He loved him enough to ease the ache he had carried in his chest for months. He loved him so much he felt like he could fly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now it's time to get sappy.  
> 
> 
> I can't begin to thank everybody who has read and commented on this fic. The response has been overwhelmingly positive and every comment and kudos I get is a beautiful piece of encouragement and validation. Thank you so much to everybody who has supported me and inspired me through this last month, which has been honestly really tough. Even if you don't realize it, you've helped me so much. More than you know. I started this fic expecting it to be a short little thing, but I loved it so much I just kept going and it got longer and longer.  
> 
> 
> YOI is such an important show to me, especially its depictions of Yuuri's anxiety. Writing this fic was a wonderful experience because it helped me begin to work through some of my own anxiety, especially around sharing my writing. Letting other people read what you've written is no easy task, but when I had people like you all cheering me on, it got a little bit easier. It pushed me to write more and to keep going. So thank you for your encouragement. It means the world to me.  
> 
> 
> I'll be back soon with a short epilogue to wrap things up! Thank you once again. I can't say it enough. I hope you enjoyed this fic at least half as much as I loved writing it.  
> 
> 
> As always, [come talk to me on tumblr, if you want!](http://wecalleverythinglove.tumblr.com/)


	10. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me: I'm just gonna write a short epilogue to wrap things up  
> also me: *writes 3k of pure fluff*  
> oops

**6 MONTHS LATER**

 

Yuuri stepped through the door of Victor’s bedroom, dropped his bag on the floor, and let his shoulders slump with exhaustion. After spending the day surrounded by constant voices and the pressure to make a good impression, it was a relief to escape to a bit of quiet.

“Well?” Two arms looped around his waist as Victor came up behind him and rested his chin on Yuuri’s shoulder. “What do you think?”

Yuuri’s mouth was dry. “It’s nice,” he said. The bedchamber was modestly furnished – the room of someone who didn’t spend much time here – with everything in shades of blue and grey and white. The bed, which took up the most space, was bigger than any that Yuuri had ever seen. Wide windows half covered by sheer curtains lined the walls, filling the room with late evening sunlight, and a glass door led to a balcony overlooking the sparkling sea.

“I’m glad you think so.” Victor pressed a kiss to his cheek. He had hardly taken his hands off Yuuri since that morning when Yuuri arrived at the capital. For the past six months, Yuuri had been in Hasetsu while Victor stayed here, and even with Victor travelling south to visit him at least once every few weeks, it had been hard for both of them. Those short moments together had been precious and perfect but it was nothing like being truly together. Now, finally, their wedding was a week away and Yuuri was moving to the capital for good. Even though he had been given his own room in the palace to stay, Victor had asked him to stay in his room and, of course, Yuuri agreed.

Victor was talking excitedly, the words spilling out rapid-fire while he held Yuuri’s hand and led him around the room. Yuuri could hardly straighten his thoughts enough listen; he nodded and tried to look attention to whatever Victor was saying. But exhaustion pressed down on him and he wanted nothing more than to sleep. He had spent the morning meeting all of the royals, far more than he could possibly keep track of, no matter how much he wanted to remember all of them. They were Victor’s family and would soon become his as well. But Victor had far too many cousins. With each one that he met, he found himself wondering what they thought of him. Did they deem him worthy of the prince? Did they know how Yuuri had broken his heart once? Did they wonder what flight of fancy had inspired Victor to marry him, or guess how long it would take for Yuuri to make some awful, unforgivable mistake?

Though Yuuri had met the king before, it was no less nerve-wracking to stand in front of him again today. The king knew everything that had happened between Yuuri and Victor. Although he was nothing less than distantly polite to him, Yuuri suspected that King Yakov would always hold a grudge toward him for hurting his son. No matter how happy Victor was now, he had once been brokenhearted because of Yuuri, and the king would always be waiting for Yuuri to do it again.

Yurio had been more open in his dislike of Yuuri when he greeted him today. Turning up his nose at Yuuri’s outstretched hand, he had crossed his arms over his chest and scowled fiercely. After Victor told him off, he finally shook Yuuri’s hand, squeezing it so hard that Yuuri winced. Victor had assured him that Yurio would warm up to him with time. While it was gratifying to know that Yurio’s dislike stemmed from care for Victor, that didn’t lessen the ache in Yuuri’s hand or the nerves bubbling in his stomach.

Other than those two, many of the royals, as well as the important advisors and palace workers that he met, had been perfectly welcoming and kind. But Yuuri found himself exhausted by the introductions nonetheless. As much as he had hoped his nervousness around other people would disappear when he broke the curse, it had apparently gone deeper than that. His hands still shook sometimes when he talked to strangers and being in crowds was still overwhelming. He thought he was getting better at it, but at times like these he felt just as hopeless as he had ever been.

But now this was really happening. He was marrying Victor; he was going to become a royal himself. Rationally, he had known all along that he was going to marry the prince, but shaking hands with the king and knowing that he would soon be his son-in-law was something he still couldn’t wrap his mind around. Servants were already bowing when they saw him and calling him “your grace.” He doubted he would ever get used to that.

Every time he met someone new, he found himself tensing up, terrified that they would criticize him for taking Victor away from someone more worthy. As much as he wanted Victor’s opinion to be the only one that he cared about, the truth was that the whole kingdom could now judge him in whatever way they wanted. Not for the first time, Yuuri wished the rest of the world didn’t have to exist. Everything would be so much simpler if he and Victor were the only ones that mattered, if they could have each other and nothing else and they didn’t have to think about kingdoms or politics or anything else.

And Victor – what would Victor think of him once they married? They had never spent more than a few days at a time with each other, and while those days had been blissful, Yuuri couldn’t help but worry that Victor would realize that he wasn’t the person he hoped he would be, that Victor would grow bored of him. The reasonable part of his mind knew that this wasn’t likely to happen, but the worries persisted. Although Victor had eventually understood when Yuuri explained the curse to him, Yuuri was still figuring out how to live his life with the curse’s aftereffects and he suspected he would be for a long time. Would Victor want to deal with his constant doubts of himself, all his anxieties and uncertainties? Would he realize that Yuuri wasn’t the right partner for the throne and have him cast off into exile?

“Yu-uri.” Victor drew his name out long. “What’s the matter?”

Shaking his head, Yuuri realized he had been staring out the window for a long time, lost in his own head. “Sorry. I was thinking.”

“You think too much,” Victor teased.

His eyes stinging, Yuuri hung his head. “I know.”

“Oh, no,” Victor murmured, stepping closer to him and lifting his chin up, swiping away the tears before they could even fall from his eyes. “I didn’t mean that. I know it’s a lot to take in and you must be overwhelmed.”

Yuuri started to pull away, not wanting Victor to think he wasn’t strong enough. “I’m not . . .” he began, but his voice cracked over the words. He blinked quickly as fresh tears welled up.

“You don’t have to hide from me, my love,” Victor murmured.

Crumbling, Yuuri closed his eyes and nodded. “I can’t help but worry . . . what if I’m not good enough? I want to be good enough – for the kingdom, for you – but I . . .” He shook his head. “I’m sorry. I thought all this would go away when I broke the curse, but I’m still weak. I’m sorry.”

“Shh.” Victor pulled him closer, wrapping his arms around him and letting Yuuri rest his head on his shoulder. “You’re not weak, Yuuri. Nobody thinks that. You know, you’re the strongest person I know. I couldn’t have gone through what you did and been so brave.”

Yuuri let out a shuddering breath as some of the tension eased out of his body. He clung to Victor, turning his face inward so his face was against Victor’s neck, his lips brushing his collarbone. He matched his breathing with Victor’s – slowly, in and out – until his heartbeat was the same solid rhythm as Victor’s below his cheek.

“You make it look so easy,” he sighed.

Victor’s soft laugh rumbled through his chest. “I’ve had my entire life to practice and this is all brand new to you. Everyone here is a stranger to you – all you need is time to feel more comfortable and at home.” His fingers wove into the hair at the base of Yuuri’s skull. “You did wonderfully today, you know. Everyone who met you loved you. The kingdom will love you too. And I’ll be by your side for all of it, I promise. I won’t ever leave you.”

Yuuri nodded, his breathing steady.

Then Victor began to hum, a slow song meant for dancing. He swayed back and forth, moving his feet slightly until Yuuri joined him, lifting his head up. Victor pressed his cheek against Yuuri’s and let the song hum between them as they danced slowly, moving around the open room. The sun was setting over the sea, casting the room in golden light.

“Do you remember when we danced like this at the festival in Hasetsu?” Victor whispered. “That was the night I realized I was in love with you.”

Yuuri smiled at the memory. “I loved you too, though I didn’t realize it until your letter.”

Victor winced a little. “Ah, let’s not talk about that letter.”

Mentally, Yuuri chastised himself. “Sorry.”

Victor pulled back just enough to brush his lips to Yuuri’s cheek. “You have nothing to apologize for. I was foolish and careless – I didn’t think what the letter would do to you.”

“You couldn’t have known.” Yuuri reached up to push Victor’s fringe out of his eyes, catching a glimpse of that deep sorrow that he had seen on the three nights of the festival. He knew that it was sorrow that he had caused and it pained him every time he saw it. At least the sight of him was usually enough to make it disappear. “It’s as much my fault as yours. More so, probably.”

“We’ll get nowhere assigning blame to anyone.” Victor smiled and the look disappeared, replaced by a warm tenderness that Yuuri recognized as the way Victor usually looked at him. It made his heart somersault. “We’re together now, and that’s all that matters.”

Yuuri still didn’t understand how Victor could have forgiven him so easily, but hours and days of talking after they reunited months ago had finally given Victor the whole story. After apologies and tears from both of them, they had agreed to put it behind them as a bad memory. Every time he thought about it, though, and the months that they both spent heartbroken, Yuuri wished he could go back in time and change everything.

They had stopped dancing and were once again simply holding each other. After a long moment, Victor pulled back slightly. “Are you hungry? We haven’t eaten in a while.”

“Starving,” Yuuri admitted. For hours, he hadn’t been sure if the pinch in his stomach was nerves or hunger. Now that his nerves had settled, his stomach was growling more insistently.

“I’ll ask for something to be brought up from the kitchens.”

Victor stepped away and Yuuri immediately missed his arms. While he disappeared back into the hallway, Yuuri crossed to the bench by the window and sat down, pulling his legs up to his chest. The view outside was truly breathtaking; he could hardly believe he would be waking up to this every day from now on. From here, he could see the crisscrossing streets of the city below, even the small shapes of people and animals moving through them. Farther down, he could see the cliffs that gave way to water, hiding the rocky beaches below. The sea stretched out, bathed in blinding orange light, before being swallowed up by the horizon. Seagulls wheeled through the air, their calls cutting through the sky.

When Victor returned, he joined Yuuri on the window seat by slipping himself behind Yuuri, arms around his middle, with Yuuri’s back pressed to his chest. Yuuri loved it when they sat like this; he felt safe and protected cocooned in Victor’s arms. He could feel Victor’s heartbeat against his back and the warmth of his breath on his ear. Sitting like this, Victor would often press kisses to his cheek or neck or shoulder, which Yuuri found unendingly endearing.

“Do you miss Hasetsu?” Victor asked, resting his chin on Yuuri’s shoulder.

“Of course.” Yuuri threaded his fingers through Victor’s and rubbed tiny circles on the back of his hand with his thumb. “I’ll always miss it.” The past months had been bittersweet, knowing that he would be leaving before he knew it, this time for good. He spent as much time as he could with his family, helping out at the onsen as business grew when word spread that it was the birthplace of the prince’s future husband. Few guests realized that Yuuri himself was often the one serving their meals or attending to their needs. He liked the sense of anonymity that he knew he wouldn’t have here. Even though they were far away, his family had permanent, open invitations to visit the palace whenever they liked. Yuuri had said goodbye to them a day ago but he would be seeing them again soon when they traveled north for the wedding.

“The seagulls are the same, though, aren’t they?”

Yuuri smiled, listening to their shrill cries. “Yes, they remind me of home.”

Victor asked him more, letting him talk about the journey here and what he had thought about everyone he met that day. It was a relief to just talk, though their voices were barely above murmurs and Victor interrupted him more than a few times to press kisses against the line of his jaw.

When a servant knocked on the door and peeked inside, carrying a loaded tray of food, Yuuri flushed at their intimate position. Victor showed no sign of embarrassment, though, asking the servant to bring the tray to the window seat. They ate their noodles like that, tangled around each other. Yuuri playfully pushed Victor away every time he slurped in his ear, and Victor tried to feed Yuuri a few spoonfuls, which created a mess. Yuuri’s chest felt lighter than it had all day as he laughed and filled his stomach with food.

The sun had set by the time they finished, filling the room with darkness. Yuuri pushed the empty tray away and leaned back against Victor’s chest. The room was near silent; the city below them was going to sleep and Victor’s heartbeat against Yuuri’s ear was the loudest thing he could hear. His eyes drifted shut with the feeling of Victor’s breath over his ear.

“Yuuri?” Victor whispered his name.

“Mmm,” Yuuri mumbled, not opening his eyes.

“You’re falling asleep. Let’s go to bed.”

Yuuri protested feebly as Victor untangled himself and pulled away. From underneath drooping eyelids, he watched Victor cross the room to close the door. On the way back, he pulled his shirt over his head and dropped it on the floor, yawning.

Yuuri’s throat suddenly went dry. He tried not to stare at the way Victor’s pale skin seemed to glow in the darkness of the room, but it was hard to tear his eyes away. Returning to the window, Victor took Yuuri’s hands and pulled him to his feet.

“Are you coming?” he asked. Yuuri determinedly looked anywhere but Victor’s bare chest. Of course he had seen Victor undressed before – bathing the onsen was excuse enough – but this was different. This was Victor’s room, Victor’s bed, soon to be Yuuri’s as well. Tension crept back into his muscles.

“I’m . . .” he began, then swallowed hard. Victor reached up, slid his glasses off, and folded them carefully. Resting his hands on Yuuri’s hips, he leaned his forehead against Yuuri’s, their noses brushing together.

“I can’t wait to wake up next to you,” Victor whispered. The thought of it made Yuuri sigh and return Victor’s smile. Yes, he could do that. In fact, nothing sounded better to him at this moment. He let Victor take his hand and lead him to the bed, where Victor crawled underneath the covers while Yuuri undressed down to his underwear.

The bed was wide enough that Yuuri could lay down with several feet of space separating them, but Victor held out his arms and Yuuri went into them. He curled up against him, tucking his head under Victor’s chin as Victor pulled him close. Slowly, the tension bled away from Yuuri’s muscles and disappeared. Victor’s hands were cold against Yuuri’s bare skin but his body was warm.

Victor pressed a kiss to the top of Yuuri’s head. “I love having you here,” he breathed. “In my bed – in _our_ bed.”

Yuuri closed his eyes and smiled. “I love it too.”

Victor’s fingers splayed against Yuuri’s hipbone, his other hand moving up to brush Yuuri’s hair back from his forehead. His eyes were slits of blue in the darkness. “Yuuri.”

Nobody else said Yuuri’s name like Victor did, like it was a precious, beautiful thing that deserved nothing but love. Yuuri lifted his head and leaned forward to kiss Victor slowly, languidly, breathing in the sigh that escaped his lips. When he pulled away, Victor’s eyes stayed closed for another few seconds, a smile growing on his face. They lay nose to nose, chest to chest.

“We’re getting married in a week,” Victor murmured, wonder in his voice.

“I know.”

“I get to marry you.” Victor smiled wide and unabashedly.

“And I get to marry you.” Yuuri mirrored his smile.

“I’m so lucky.” Victor’s hand lifted to cup Yuuri’s face, tracing the curve of his cheek with his thumb. “I’m so in love with you, Yuuri.”

“I’m very much in love with you too, Victor,” Yuuri whispered.

Victor moved forward and kissed him again, capturing the smile from his lips. For a long, blissful moment, they kissed softly, unhurriedly. They had all the time in the world. They had the rest of their lives.

“What are you thinking?” Victor breathed against his lips.

“I think I must be dreaming,” Yuuri murmured. He opened his eyes. “I don’t know how else I could be this happy.”

Victor pressed his lips together and smiled, his eyes shining. “Do you want to know what I’m thinking?”

“What are you thinking?”

“I think we’re going to live happily ever after. How does that sound to you?”

“That sounds perfect,” Yuuri sighed.

They fell asleep with their faces an inch apart, their arms wrapped around each other, while the moon shone on the ocean outside and the cries of the gulls filled the quiet night air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've said it before and I'll say it again and again: THANK YOU to everyone who has read this fic! I love you all. It's been truly a pleasure to write this and I couldn't have done it without all of the encouragement and positivity I received. I've gotten so many sweet messages and comments in the past few days and it makes me smile so hard.
> 
> Now that this fic is over, I'm in the planning stages of an urban fantasy AU with dragons! So keep and eye out for that if you're interested!
> 
> And, of course, [come find me on tumblr!](http://wecalleverythinglove.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Thank you all so much. Hope to see you again soon!


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